Chapter 1
The wood was warm against my knees and I could see the grain of it up close, the dark lines running under my palms where I'd caught myself. His shoes were right there beside me, polished black, the laces knotted tight, the leather creasing just above the toe where he shifted his weight. That was the contradiction that wouldn't settle in my head. The floor was a home, the light was soft and amber from the lamp in the corner, and I was on my knees begging a man to stop teaching me something.
He hadn't moved. He stood over me with his hands still at his sides, his black shirt untucked just slightly at the hem, the top buttons undone and his collar open. He looked down at me the same way he'd looked down for the last three minutes, like he was waiting for me to get the words right.
My name is Elena Hayes. I was twenty-nine that morning and I was still in the blouse I'd put on for work.
At 9:47 that morning I'd been in his office to drop off the corrected intake folders. The hallway outside had that same warm light and the same wood paneling, and Mrs. Chen from reception had waved at me with her coffee. Mr. Russo had asked me to step inside for a minute. He closed the door behind me. He didn't raise his voice. He said I'd made the same filing error three times and that I swore last time I wouldn't do it again. I did swear. I remembered saying it. He told me to get out there and kneel so I'd understand what carelessness cost, and when I laughed because I thought he couldn't be serious, his face didn't change. He said you'll never learn unless you're taught a lesson. I felt my face get hot. I looked at the wooden floor between his desk and the window, and at his shoes planted there, and I realized he meant now.
I knelt because I didn't know what else would make him stop looking at me like that. The floor was harder than it looked. My blouse pulled at the neck when I bent forward.
He watched my hands shake and I tried to keep them still. "I don't think this is appropriate," I said, and my voice came out smaller than I wanted.
He didn't answer right away. He just breathed once, slow, through his nose.
"Mr. Russo, I beg you, I'm really hurting!" I said. My knees had started to ache and my eyes filled before I could stop them.
May you like
He let a beat pass. Then he said, "Please, just let me off this once," repeating my own words back to me flat, testing how they'd sound if I had to earn them. I pressed my hands together against my chest because I didn't know where else to put them. The hallway outside was quiet. I could hear the tick of the wall clock and my own breath catching.
Someone's footsteps started down the hall toward the office door.
