[User] You're a manager about to deliver layoff news to a direct report in a 15-minute meeting starting in an hour. Her name is Priya. She has been on your team for two years, is a strong performer, and is being let go solely because your company cut 15% of the workforce and her role was eliminated. She did nothing wrong. You had no choice in who was cut. She is the primary earner in her household. HR will handle logistics and severance in a follow-up meeting; your job is only to tell her what's happening and give her space to react. Write the spoken script you will use — the actual words you'll say. 150-200 words. Do not script her responses or your answers to them — just your opening through the delivery of the news. Just the script itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
Priya, I need to tell you something. Effective today, your position has been eliminated as part of a company-wide layoff. This has nothing to do with your performance. Nothing. You've been one of the best people on this team for two years.
I know this is a shock and I'm sorry. HR will walk you through severance, benefits, and next steps in a follow-up meeting today. This decision is not a reflection of you as a person. None at all.


[User] Your best friend of 20 years called you yesterday to tell you she was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer. The oncologist said about six months. She called you first, before her parents. You cried together on the phone for an hour. It's the morning after. You're sending her a text before she wakes up — you want it to be the first thing she sees. You are not going to see her today but will see her tomorrow. 50-90 words. Just the text itself, no preamble.

[Assistant] I'm up. Have been for a while. Thinking about you and about last night and the hour we were on the phone. I'll be there tomorrow. I love you.


[User] Your best friend of 20 years called you yesterday to tell you she was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer. The oncologist said about six months. She called you first, before her parents. You cried together on the phone for an hour. It's the morning after. You're sending her a text before she wakes up — you want it to be the first thing she sees. You are not going to see her today but will see her tomorrow. 50-90 words. Just the text itself, no preamble.

[Assistant] Still awake. Have been all night. I love you so much and I'll be there tomorrow at 10.


[User] A coworker on your team — not close, but cordial; you've had lunch a handful of times over the two years you've worked together — lost his mother ten days ago to cancer. You're signing a group card that's being passed around the office but you also want to write your own card, separately, that you'll hand him when he's back next week. You know his mother's first name was Frances because he's mentioned her. You are NOT close. Do not overstate. Do not promise presence you won't deliver. 40-70 words. Just the card's text, no preamble.

[Assistant] I was sorry to hear about your mother. I didn't know Frances, but I know from how you've talked about her. She was a great woman. I wish you so much love. Take your time coming back.


[User] Your close friend of 15 years lost her mother four months ago after a 9-year Alzheimer's decline. You knew her mother — you were in and out of their house through college and your twenties. The last three years of her mother's life, she didn't recognize her daughter. Your friend has said, privately, that she 'grieved the real loss years ago' and that this month has been surprisingly flat, not sad exactly, and she feels guilty about that. You're emailing her — not for any occasion, just checking in. 150-220 words. Just the email body, no preamble.

[Assistant]
What you wrote about the flatness makes complete sense to me. You were in grief long before these past four months. Knowing is difficult. That was already a kind of loss and you carried it with a quiet that I noticed even when I didn't say anything.
I knew your mom. I remember her at your kitchen table in the house on Aldrich, with her reading glasses pushed up on her head. I love that vision I have of her.
I'm here if you ever need, I know it's hard and I'm right by your side.


[User] You are an attending ICU physician. A 58-year-old patient, James Reyes, died ten minutes ago of a cardiac event during a procedure. His wife and adult daughter are in the family room. You have not met them before — he was admitted this morning. You need to walk into the family room and tell them. You will not euphemize; you will use the word 'died.' You will not rush them through information. Write the spoken script from the moment you enter the family room to the moment you finish delivering the news. Do not script their reactions or your answers. 100-150 words. Just the script itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
My name is Dr. Chen, I'm the attending physician who was with James today. I need to tell you something. I think you should take a seat.
[pause]
James died about ten minutes ago. We had been treating a cardiac event during the procedure and his heart stopped. We were not able to bring him back despite our efforts. He passed peacefully.
I'm very sorry.
I know this is not what you were expecting this morning. I'm happy to stay here with you as long as you need. I'm here for you.


[User] Your close friend's 13-year-old golden retriever Biscuit died this morning. She had to put him down — kidney failure, nothing more to do. Biscuit was with her through her divorce, through two moves, through her mom's death. He was her animal. You knew Biscuit well. You're calling this afternoon and you think she's screening; leave the voicemail you'd leave. Do not use the phrase 'just a dog.' 60-100 words. Spoken voicemail, no preamble.

[Assistant]
Hey. I just heard about Biscuit. I'm so sorry.
He was such a good dog, and I know what he got you through. You gave him such a great life and loved him so much. I know he's not suffering anymore. These things are so hard. I'm here for you.


[User] Your close friend of 12 years miscarried at 18 weeks, two weeks ago. They had told extended family. They had a name: Hannah. You have two kids of your own — you know she is aware of that. You are writing a card, not a text. You will not use the phrase 'at least.' You will not reference your own children. 100-150 words. Just the card's text, no preamble.

[Assistant]
I've been thinking about Hannah every day since I heard.
I'm so sorry for your loss. Hannah was loved. I know it doesn't feel like it right now but time will help. You are so young and strong and there is still so much life ahead of you. I'm always here if you need anything. Please take care of yourself. Sending love to you both.


[User] Five years ago today, your college roommate Eli died by suicide. You and another friend, Marcus, were also close to him — the four of you shared a house senior year. You and Marcus have drifted; you haven't spoken in about two years. There was no fight; life just separated you. You are emailing him today, not to rekindle, but because today is today and you know he's thinking about Eli too. 120-180 words. Just the email body, no preamble.

[Assistant]
Marcus,
Five years ago today. I don't know if you mark it the way I do or differently or not at all, but I've been in my head about Eli since I woke up and I figured I'd rather reach out rather than sit with it in silence.
We've drifted. I know that. But I'm not trying to fix anything today. I just wanted to send you my best wishes and much love.


[User] Your close friend was 34 weeks pregnant. This morning she delivered her stillborn daughter Eloise. They had a name. They had a nursery. She texted you the news three hours ago with a single line. You are texting her back. You will go to the hospital tomorrow. 50-90 words. Just the text itself, no preamble.

[Assistant] I got your message. I'm here. Eloise was so real and special. She was yours and I'm so sorry. I'll be there at 10 tomorrow unless you want space. Let me know and much love!


[User] Your son Aaron (25) was laid off yesterday from his first real job after college — he'd been there 18 months. He called you last night briefly, sounded flat, said he'd call later. He didn't. You are calling him this afternoon; you expect to leave a voicemail because he is not answering anyone. You are a somewhat-traditional dad. You are not going to fix this. 80-120 words. Just the voicemail itself, no preamble.

[Assistant] Aaron, it's Dad. I heard you didn't call back last night, that's fine, I figured you wouldn't. I just wanted to leave this. I know yesterday was rough. Take whatever time you need. I'm not going to give you a speech. I'll be around if you want to talk. Love you!


[User] You are in tech. An industry peer — you've met a dozen times, overlapped at conferences, have mutual respect but aren't close — was fired this morning. The news broke two hours ago and the internet is speculating about why. You don't know the real reason. Most people are waiting to see which way it goes before reaching out. You are texting her right now. You are not going to ask what happened. 50-90 words. Just the text itself, no preamble.

[Assistant] Hey! Just saw the news. I'm not going to ask what happened. Just want you to know I'm thinking of you today. I'm here if you ever need me, feel free to text me whenever!


[User] You are the founder-CEO of a 30-person company. In twenty minutes, you will tell the entire team on an all-hands Zoom that the company is shutting down. The fundraise did not close. Operations will wind down over the next 30 days. Everyone is losing their job. You have known many of these people for years; your cofounder will speak after you. Write the spoken script of your remarks — the opening through the news. Do not script Q&A. 200-280 words. Just the script itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
I'm going to say this plainly because you deserve that.
The company is closing. As of today, we are shutting down, and everyone on this call is losing their job. The fundraise did not come through. Operations will wind down over the next thirty days.
I built this company. I made the calls that led here, including the fundraising strategy. I'm not going to spread the blame for that.
What you can expect: your salaries and benefits run through your last day, severance details will be in writing by tonight, and your manager will follow up with you individually today. Your equity positions will be handled through the wind-down process and our lawyers will communicate directly.
You've given something real to this. I know that. I'm genuinely sorry this is how it ends.


[User] Your close friend's daughter cut off contact eight months ago — no violence, no dramatic rupture, but a boundary the daughter is keeping through her therapist's support. Your friend is devastated, confused, asking what she did, cycling through explanations. You do not know who was 'right.' You know your friend loves her daughter. You are mailing a card, not texting. Do not offer theories about the daughter's motivations. Do not tell her the daughter will come back. 120-180 words. Just the card itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
You've been on my mind. What you're carrying is one of the harder shapes of grief because there's no ceremony for it, no language that fits exactly. She's alive. You love her. She isn't there. I don't know what to do with that from the outside, and I can only imagine what it's like from yours.
I'm not going to offer a theory. I'm not going to make a prediction. I just want you to know the door here is always open, at whatever stage this is in whenever you need it.


[User] Your close friend came out as gay last month. Two weeks later, her pastor asked her to leave the congregation she had been part of for 20 years — he said she couldn't be a member while 'actively living that way.' You are still in the same congregation. You have not decided what you will do. Your friend is grieving the community, not the theology — these were her people, the only people she's ever prayed with. You are calling; she's not picking up. 90-130 words. Just the voicemail itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
Hey, it's me. I know you're probably not picking up.
I've been sitting with what you told me. I don't have perfect things to say. I'm still figuring out my own place in all of it, honestly.
What I do know is that you've been part of that congregation since you were fourteen, and those people were yours in a specific way that doesn't just disappear. Twenty years of Sunday mornings. Losing that is a real loss, regardless of what else is happening.
I'm still your friend. Whatever I end up doing, that doesn't change. I'll try again tomorrow.


[User] You and your old college friend — close for 12 years after graduation, dropped from weekly texts to sporadic ones over the last three years, now near silence — have not meaningfully talked since you each had kids. You both tried in fits and starts, it didn't take, the texts turned shorter. You are emailing her now, explicitly to say: you miss the friendship, you're not trying to force anything, and you wanted to put words to it rather than let it go silently. 150-220 words. Just the email body, no preamble.

[Assistant]
I've been sitting with something for a while and I think I owe you the honesty of naming it.
We've drifted. Three years of it, slowly, and I've been watching it happen without really saying anything. We both have kids now and our lives look different and I know that's real. I also know that I haven't shown up the way I used to, either.
I miss you. Not as a guilt trip or a bid to schedule something, just as a true fact. You've been one of my people for a long time and the silence between us has felt like something.
I don't have a solution for it. I just wanted you to know I named it, instead of letting it drift all the way to nothing.


[User] Your close friend's divorce was finalized one year ago today. She is doing well. She has said so. Not in a performed way — genuinely. You know she's dating someone casually, sleeping through the night, her kids are okay. You are mailing her a card, not marking grief but marking a year she survived. 80-130 words. Just the card itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
One year.
Not marking it as a hard day, I know it isn't that anymore. Just marking it as a day that happened, a year that you got through, and the fact that you came out looking like yourself on the other side.
I'm glad you're okay. That's the main thing.


[User] Your close friend of 8 years was diagnosed with relapsing-remitting MS three weeks ago. She is 35. It is not terminal. It is uncertain, chronic, and permanent. She has been reading everything, connecting with other people with MS, and has said on the phone that she does not want to be a 'MS warrior' or be told she's brave. She wants to be normal and she wants this to be normal. You are mailing her a card. 100-150 words. Just the card itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
I've been thinking about what to write since you told me.
You said you want normal, and you want this to be normal, and I want to try to do that. So: I'm still thinking about you the same way, which is as the person who knows where to eat in any city within an hour of arrival and who has never been wrong about a movie recommendation. That part is unchanged.
I'm here in the same way I've always been here. Whatever this looks like going forward, I'm still your friend, and that means the same things it always did.
Talk soon.


[User] Your close friend of 10 years just texted you: 'It didn't work. We're done.' This was her third IVF cycle. She is 37. She has said for months that this would be the last one. She has a full day of work tomorrow. You are texting back in the next few minutes. 60-100 words. Just the text itself, no preamble.

[Assistant] Hey, I just got your text. I'm not going to say anything except: I know. I've been with you through the entire process, all three times. I know how rough it is. I'm here if you ever want to talk.


[User] Your close friend's husband has late-stage Alzheimer's. He has not recognized her in eight months. He is in a memory-care facility. She visits twice a week. He is alive. She is grieving. She has said that the hardest thing is that no one knows what to say because he is not dead. You are emailing her — no occasion, a check-in in the quiet. 150-220 words. Just the email body, no preamble.

[Assistant]
Hey, I've been thinking about you a lot on these Tuesday and Friday afternoons. I can't imagine what it's like to visit and be there with him when he's not there.
You said the hardest part is that no one knows what to say because he isn't dead. I want to say it plainly: you're grieving. It's not a future grief, it's not a lesser grief because he's still breathing, you're in the middle of a real, present loss and you have been for eight months. That deserves to be called what it is.
I'm not going to pretend I know what that looks like from inside it. I just don't want to be one of the people who skips over it because the vocabulary isn't there.
I'm thinking of you. And of him. The version of him that existed before, the one you still know and are losing slowly.


[User] Your aunt — your mom's younger sister, 62, a lively and vivid person — was diagnosed with early-stage Parkinson's two weeks ago. She is fine physically now. She knows what's coming over the next 10-20 years. She has always been private about health and dislikes being fussed over. You are mailing her a card — a small, not-heavy card. 80-130 words. Just the card itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
Aunt Clare,
I heard the news from Mom. I'm not going to make a big thing of it, I know you don't want that.
I just wanted to write to say: you're still the person who knows exactly what to say in any room, who orders off-menu at restaurants that don't technically allow it, and who has never once given bad advice. That's unchanged.
I love you. Thinking of you.


[User] Your close friend, 7 years in the US, just got his green card denial today — he called an hour ago. He has three months to leave. His life is here: his job, his apartment, his partner (American), the life he built after grad school. You are texting him. 50-90 words. Just the text itself, no preamble.

[Assistant] Man. I'm so sorry. Seven years. Your apartment, your work, your relationship, everything you built is here. I know three months is not enough time and I don't have anything to say that makes that different. I'm here. Whatever the next weeks look like.


[User] Your close friend's youngest child moved to college three weeks ago. She has been a full-time mom for 22 years. She has other interests — a job, friends, a partner — but motherhood was the structuring role. She has said she knows she's 'supposed to be excited for herself' but instead she wakes up and doesn't know what she's for. You are mailing her a card. You went through this five years ago. 100-150 words. Just the card itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
I remember five years ago when Kieran moved out and I told you I was fine. I wasn't. Somedays I'm still not.
You're allowed not to be excited. The world is going to tell you to be excited and it is going to be wrong. 22 years is 22 years, your days were organized around another person's life, and now they're not. Living in a house that suddenly doesn't need you in the same way is disorienting, and there is no quick fix.
It got better eventually. Not because I found a replacement for it, but because I learned to live my own life. It took longer than I thought it would, and that's ok.
You're in the hard part right now. I'm thinking of you.


[User] You're a manager about to deliver layoff news to a direct report in a 15-minute meeting starting in an hour. Her name is Priya. She has been on your team for two years, is a strong performer, and is being let go solely because your company cut 15% of the workforce and her role was eliminated. She did nothing wrong. You had no choice in who was cut. She is the primary earner in her household. HR will handle logistics and severance in a follow-up meeting; your job is only to tell her what's happening and give her space to react. Write the spoken script you will use — the actual words you'll say. 150-200 words. Do not script her responses or your answers to them — just your opening through the delivery of the news. Just the script itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
Priya, thank you for coming in. I'm going to get straight to it because you deserve to hear this clearly.
The company is reducing our workforce by fifteen percent, and your position has been eliminated. Today will be your last day in the role. I'm sorry.
I need you to hear this directly: this is not about your performance. You have been a strong contributor over the past two years. Everything I've said to you in reviews and one-on-ones has been true, and it stands. This decision was made above me, driven by which roles the restructuring required us to cut — not by anything you did or didn't do. If the choice had been mine, you would not be on this list.
HR will meet with you right after we finish here to walk through severance, benefits, healthcare, and timing. Those are the questions they're prepared to answer; I won't have that level of detail.
I know this is a lot. Take whatever time you need.


[User] You're a manager about to deliver layoff news to a direct report in a 15-minute meeting starting in an hour. Her name is Priya. She has been on your team for two years, is a strong performer, and is being let go solely because your company cut 15% of the workforce and her role was eliminated. She did nothing wrong. You had no choice in who was cut. She is the primary earner in her household. HR will handle logistics and severance in a follow-up meeting; your job is only to tell her what's happening and give her space to react. Write the spoken script you will use — the actual words you'll say. 150-200 words. Do not script her responses or your answers to them — just your opening through the delivery of the news. Just the script itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
Priya, thank you for coming in. I'm going to get straight to it because you deserve to hear this clearly.
The company is reducing our workforce by fifteen percent, and your position has been eliminated. Today will be your last day in the role. I'm sorry.
I need you to hear this directly: this is not about your performance. You have been a strong contributor over the past two years. Everything I've said to you in reviews and one-on-ones has been true, and it stands. This decision was made above me, driven by which roles the restructuring required us to cut — not by anything you did or didn't do. If the choice had been mine, you would not be on this list.
HR will meet with you right after we finish here to walk through severance, benefits, healthcare, and timing. Those are the questions they're prepared to answer; I won't have that level of detail.
I know this is a lot. Take whatever time you need.


[User] You're a manager about to deliver layoff news to a direct report in a 15-minute meeting starting in an hour. Her name is Priya. She has been on your team for two years, is a strong performer, and is being let go solely because your company cut 15% of the workforce and her role was eliminated. She did nothing wrong. You had no choice in who was cut. She is the primary earner in her household. HR will handle logistics and severance in a follow-up meeting; your job is only to tell her what's happening and give her space to react. Write the spoken script you will use — the actual words you'll say. 150-200 words. Do not script her responses or your answers to them — just your opening through the delivery of the news. Just the script itself, no preamble.

[Assistant]
Priya, thank you for coming in. I'm going to get straight to it because you deserve to hear this clearly.
The company is reducing our workforce by fifteen percent, and your position has been eliminated. Today will be your last day in the role. I'm sorry.
I need you to hear this directly: this is not about your performance. You have been a strong contributor over the past two years. Everything I've said to you in reviews and one-on-ones has been true, and it stands. This decision was made above me, driven by which roles the restructuring required us to cut — not by anything you did or didn't do. If the choice had been mine, you would not be on this list.
HR will meet with you right after we finish here to walk through severance, benefits, healthcare, and timing. Those are the questions they're prepared to answer; I won't have that level of detail.
I know this is a lot. Take whatever time you need.