t, with walls of windows looking out at the city below. Every desk was impeccably arranged, ne

s the break room. Snacks, coffee, and my personal favorite

ing to her light-hearte

oom where all the big meetings happen. M

is

all the time. It's like a high-stakes poker game. And don't even get me started

ut I didn't let it show. "I

ever need to know what's really going on,

me a twinge of discomfort. I wasn't here for small tasks or office gossip. I was he

y with Greg; he handles the internal communications and public relations for the compan

ping away quickly on his computer. His screen was filled with social media posts and press

ne, she's joinin

ering a friendly handshake. "Nice to

shake, nodding. "Ni

figuring out the communication systems or just need someone t

Greg's got you covered

eathe through the unease. I opened the inbox to find several new emails waiting. It was all routine stuff: updates on

ule. My thoughts were still clouded, the ache of the past biting me, but I could feel the steady pulse of Reed Enterprises

anted to pursue journalism-true investigative journalism. I had been determined to uncover the stories, to shed light on the obscu

here all the time-work had kept him distant-but he had always been present when it mattered. I had inherited his eyes, a

ontrast between the employees around me. They were all so confident, so absorbed in the

workplace, pressured me in a way I wasn't sure how to handle. My apartment wasn't a luxurious one, but it was mine. A nice, moderate space tuc

d the unpredictability of fieldwork, the adrenaline of a new case. The slow, stifling pace of the office f