od that appeared in the fridge. I spent my days on a cheap laptop I'd bought with the last of my gate money, searching

er would do a background check and see the conviction for corporate espionage. I knew Mark' s influence in the valley was vast, and a quiet word fr

ss of wires and half-eaten pizza boxes. The owner, a man named Henderson, had greasy hair and a leering smile. He

coffee. He made inappropriate comments, his hand brushing against my back "accidentally." I tri

e machine. "You know, Ava," he said, blocking my path, "a girl like you, with your... history.

him back hard. He stumbled, knocking over a stack of emp

e-Henderson on the floor, me pressed against the wall, shaking with rage. But there was no shock on his face. N

down at Henderson, who was scrambling to his feet. "You're fired," Mark said, his voice quiet but deadly. Then he

disappointment, as if this whole sordid mess was my fault. "Look at this place, Ava. Look at what you've been reduced to." He gestured around the filthy office. "Is this what you want? I