Chapter 2
The footsteps didn't stop at the door. They passed by, slow, and the shadow under the door moved and was gone. I stayed where I was because he hadn't told me I could get up, and I didn't want to guess wrong again.
He finally stepped back half a step. His shoes left my immediate sight line and I could see the full stretch of floor between us and the baseboard. "Stand up," he said. Not kindly. Not unkindly. Just a direction.
I got up awkwardly, one hand on the edge of his desk to steady myself. My knees throbbed and my stocking had a faint run starting at the shin. He was already at his desk, straightening the intake folders I'd brought in. He tapped their edges against the wood until they were even.
"You don't listen until there's a consequence," he said, without looking at me. "That's why we had to do that."
I wiped under my eyes with the back of my hand. My blouse had wrinkled badly at the front. "I understand I made an error," I said. "I can re-file everything this afternoon."
"You will," he said. "You'll stay until it's perfect. That's the lesson."
The office felt too warm now. The lamp he'd left on threw a yellow pool over the rug and made the paneling glow. Outside his window the parking lot was visible, a few cars and the strip of county road beyond it. Normal. So normal it made my chest tighten.
I picked up the folders he slid toward me. My hands were still not steady. "And then we're done?" I asked.
He looked at me then, direct. "Then we're done with this one. If you can show me you've learned."
He opened the door for me, holding it. The gesture felt formal and cold. I walked out into the hallway where Mrs. Chen was filing at her desk. She glanced up, smiled quickly, then looked down again. I wondered what she'd heard, if anything. I wondered what my face looked like.
I went to my small desk near the copier and sat down. My inbox was stacked. The intake folders were on top, marked with his neat handwriting: Redo - E.H. - Today. I started pulling the first one apart, my fingers working through the tabs. Every time I shifted in my chair my knees sent up a sharp reminder.
At noon he walked past with his coffee and paused. "How's it coming?" he asked, loud enough for the room to hear.
I kept my eyes on the papers. "I'm on the second file," I said.
"Good," he said. "Take your time. Get it right."
When he was gone I stared at the folders and realized what I'd traded. I hadn't said no. I'd knelt so he'd think I was teachable. Now he had a reason to keep teaching.
My phone buzzed in my drawer. A text from my sister: lunch tomorrow? I stared at it and didn't know how to answer. I typed yes, then deleted it. I typed not sure, then put the phone away.
At five thirty the office emptied out. I was on the last folder, rechecking every date twice. The building was quiet except for the hum of the heater. He came out of his office with his coat over his arm, his black shirt still crisp.
May you like
"You can go when that's finished," he said. "Lock up when you leave. And Elena. Don't make me show you again."
He left. The front door clicked shut. I sat alone at my desk in the warm light with the finished folders in front of me, my knees still sore, and understood this wasn't going to end with paperwork.
