“You don’t have to hide anything. I already know all about it.” Mr. Cavendish glanced nonchalantly at Iris from over his right shoulder. He stood a full head taller than her, giving him the look of some great ogre about to pounce on poor Iris.

“W-what? I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand…” Iris raised her shoulders in a defensive position. She began trembling and grinding the change in her left hand. Her body heat and the friction of rubbing them together warmed the coins to the point that she seemed like she might spark a fire.

“Listen, I know Warren didn’t do the research on the Matheson numbers. He doesn’t do write-ups like this. Never has,” Mr. Cavendish continued. His face was drawn and severe. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

The blood drained from Iris’s face as the realization set in. Mr. Maker must not have even looked at the presentation, much less changed the language to match his own. Even if Mr. Cavendish didn't know for certain, Iris's increasing paleness gave her away.

“Yes, sir,” Iris admitted. “Mr. Maker had asked for more numbers, and I had been staying late to get them in on time.”

“I see,” Cavendish replied with a tone that sounded almost disappointed. “Were you planning on letting Warren take credit for your work?”

“It was a team effort, sir,” Iris offered. “And Mr. Maker did provide the initial figures.”

She searched his eyes for the right thing to say. Mr. Cavendish had gone quiet, allowing the heavy silence to hang in the air until he was ready to let Iris off the hook. Finally, he sighed, and released her from his gaze.

“Very well. Go on ahead and have your lunch,” Cavendish said. “I'll tell him you needed to leave.”

Iris nodded silently and took off for the stairs. Mr. Cavendish watched her scurry away, then turned to the approaching Warren with a stony expression. He would have liked to have company to share in the odious lunch he was about to endure, but Iris was adamant about leaving.

Caught in nearly a dead run, Iris didn't stop to look back. It was entirely possible that she would be drawn back to her supervisors if they locked eyes. That, or she would combust from sudden sparks emitted by the chafed coins in her grasp. Either way, she would much rather have been elsewhere.

The line for food meandered from the checkout desk to the entryway, some fifty feet or so. Iris stood in line for eternity, shifting her weight between legs and fiddling impatiently with a button on her cardigan cuff. There were only a few precious minutes left of her lunch break.

One of her coworkers, Claire from Order Fulfillment, grabbed the last broccoli cheddar soup, much to Iris’s dismay. She would have to settle on minestrone today. Iris cursed her cowardice under her breath. You could have had a nicer meal with Mr. Cavendish if you weren’t...

She reached the checkout counter, only to discover that she was short on money for lunch. On what hellish planet was minestrone an extra $1.50 more than broccoli cheddar? Iris frowned and set the disposable coffee cup upside down at the cashier's station.

“Just this for me today, thank you.” Iris smiled weakly.

The cashier paid her no mind and dropped the coins into the register. Each metallic clink resonated in Iris’s ears. She stowed her tray away and made for the elevator. At least she could squeeze a few moments of peace and quiet at her desk.

She was approaching the elevator door when someone caught her eye. Sitting outside on a decrepit bench by the revolving door was the strange passenger from this morning. Her curiosity got the better of her, and Iris exited the GC&S building with a cup of hot soup in hand.

The passenger's ears twitched and they side-eyed her from the bench. As she approached, the stranger shot upright and began briskly walking down Fifth and Park, with their hat pulled down over the upturned jacket collar, obscuring their face once more.

“The city sure has a buncha weirdos,” Iris remarked. “So much for a friendly hello.”

She sat on the same bench to eat her soup. It was an odd thing though. The wood where the stranger sat wasn't warm at all. If anything, it was the same temperature as the unoccupied bench area. After a few sips of soup, her cell phone rang. She fumbled with her bag to recover the phone before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?” she asked. A tiny voice whispered back at her.

“Iris. It's me, Evelyn. You better get back here, quick,” she said, flustered. “I just got a calendar invitation for an all-staff meeting in ten minutes. Hurry!”

“I'm on my way. Thanks, Evee.”

Iris took a long drag from her cup of soup and tossed the empty container into a trash bin. She was off like a shot before the container landed at the bottom of the can. She hustled up to GC&S as fast as her spindly legs would carry her, arriving at the glass entryway doors panting for breath in just under fifteen minutes.

The ragtag office staff pooled by the conference room and spilled into nearby cubicles to try and get closer to the speaker. Nigel from Human Resources was perched proudly on one of the office’s guest chairs to see the swarming staff all around him. He was a short, slim man with cheekbones so sharp you could shave with them. Nigel pushed up his bookish horn-rimmed glasses and continued his sermon to the swarm.

“Please be aware that ANY act that breaches GC&S’s code of conduct will be met with disciplinary action,” Nigel commanded. “Corruption in the workplace is totally unacceptable and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent possible.”

The gaggle whispered among themselves. Corruption in the workplace? What did that even mean? Evelyn tugged on Iris’s cardigan sleeve to coax her to the back of the assembly.

“You didn’t miss much. Just basically that,” Evee said. “Nigel was on about corporate corruption and ethics and such. Here, I saved my handout for you.”

Iris glanced over the half-sheet leaflet, scanning for any insight for what she’d missed. The salmon-colored paper read like a wild west “wanted” poster, complete with “ATTENTION: ALL STAFF” at the top of the sheet in a huge bold font. It outlined mandatory training sessions that were forthcoming and reiterated what Nigel had emphasized earlier. Iris’s expression morphed from curiosity to confusion as she read on.

Was there some spate of corporate corruption running rampant at GC&S? Or was this one of Nigel’s crusades to weed out invisible phantoms in the workplace? Honestly, it could have gone either way. Training was scheduled for the next two weeks, and staff were required to sign up for several sessions to complete the training. Iris rolled her eyes and scoffed silently, then looked at Evelyn.

“Let’s sign up for the same sessions,” Iris suggested. “At least we’ll have each other to compare notes with.”

“That’s a great idea,” Evee agreed. “Can we wait until Finance and Accounts sign up for their sessions first?”

She looked nervously over at the group of ladies chatting loudly around Mr. Dämmerung. The usual pack of gossips and dramatists hovered around him, and a cackle sounded once he told another one of his non-work-friendly jokes. If Nigel heard those jokes, his glasses would surely fog up from white-hot rage.

Iris and Evelyn waited patiently for everyone to sign up, then managed to get two sessions together at the end of the day. Mr. Dämmerung wasn’t in their group, but Evelyn’s cubemate and Mr. Maker were in their session together with them.

Her eyes twitched at the prospect of listening to Claire Donovan’s tedious humble bragging about her latest business or makeup venture. She was also hoping to avoid Mr. Maker, as he’d seemed displeased with her earlier today. The option of being in the same session as Ryan or Warren was an easy choice, though; she’d much rather suffer her supervisor over her tormentor.

As the last of the afternoon wore on, Iris fielded more angry phone calls and fragmented spreadsheets with incomplete data sets. She managed to stay out of Mr. Maker’s field of view, which was a huge accomplishment in and of itself. Iris drowned out the rest of the office chatter with a pair of earbuds playing classical piano music until it was time to go.

Iris couldn’t wait to clock out of work and slough off this office again. She had spent the entire afternoon worrying about Zayzann being left alone in her apartment. She had no idea what he could be up to in her absence and feared for his well-being. The stress was wearing on her nerves, and her quaking hands went clammy while typing up her final reports for the day. Not even the gentle trill of classical piano music could calm her restlessness.

Plumbing the depths of her faux leather bag, Iris pulled out a piece of blue, quartz-like crystal. It was rounded smooth and flat like a river rock from countless days being worn down with pressed fingertips. She smiled a sweet, wistful grin as she admired the tiny stone. It was filled to bursting with memories of her past, from when she received it as a gift so long ago.

She clasped the stone in her fingertips and rubbed gently on the indentation on one side until it felt warm to the touch. It's fine. Everything is going to be fine. You'll see...

The sun peeked warmly through the window by her cubicle, announcing the end of another day. Iris packed her bag and bolted as soon as she could, leaving two sizable heaps of paper behind on her desk. She snaked through the cubicles to avoid getting stopped by her peers and was only free when the elevator doors opened up to the ground floor.

Iris stopped briefly at the local Trend n' Spend department store for a few groceries, and even managed to find some inexpensive clothing for Zayzann. She could even save the surplus money for a few lunches this week, if she stayed frugal. Iris happily balanced and schlepped the three bags of goods, until she reached the stoop by her apartment.

A carpet of glittering, shattered glass reflected the overhead streetlights as she approached her apartment stoop, warning her of danger. She scanned the area for a source to the glass, and her throat constricted while fighting back panic.

Her eyes homed in on the modest balcony, which sported a shattered glass door. The edges of the jagged crags had streaks of darkish red-violet liquid smeared over them. A small puddle of this same liquid trailed off into the apartment.

Iris shivered in place as the scene rendered in her mind. Tears started streaming down her face and her breath caught painfully in her throat as the horror set in. The glass was broken on the outside, so whatever broke the door must have done so from within. There was no other possibility…

She fumbled hopelessly for her keys and shook forcefully as she rattled them to unlock the front door. Iris flung the bags of groceries in the entryway and sprinted through the apartment to search for Zayzann.