Page 2 of Zach
I don’t care.
Not even a bit.
I used to. Way back when I tried to be like everyone else. I wore designer clothes and spiked
shoes. I slapped on makeup and spent hours on my hair.
And I hated every minute of it. After my fourth panic attack in one week, I decided fitting in
wasn’t worth it. So I searched for a company that would let me be me.
Mr. Williams and his forty-year-old marketing agency became my new home. And it’s been
everything I need it to be for the last decade. They let me be as creative as I wanted to be. They
overlooked my quirks, and in return, I made them the top agency on the east coast.
That’s not bragging. That’s a fact. Thanks to me, we have a waiting list of clients, all eager to pay
a ridiculous amount of money to work with us. Mr. Williams was happy. I was happy. Everything was
going fine.
I don’t think they’re fine anymore.
Mr. William’s eyes are kind when he looks at me.
The man in the suit’s eyes harden. “Ms. Miller. If you’ll come with me.” He spins on a shiny,
pointed shoe and walks away, confident I’ll follow him. And I do, because I’m more than confused
right now. I need to understand what’s happening around me and where Abigail is.
I follow him to the executive end of the office, straight toward Mr. Williams’s office. But the
nameplate is new. I stop. “Liam Callaghan, President. Is that you?”
“Indeed,” he says, amusement coloring his words. But not the funny kind. The kind that says
you’re a bug beneath my heel, and I will toy with you for my own amusement.
I’m not really interested in being toyed with. I’m too broken. Too sad.
He motions to the chair across from the massive oak desk, and I drop into it. I don’t betray my
whirling thoughts. Despite what Abigail said, I am capable of putting a social mask on. I don’t like to,
but I can. This time, I wear it gladly, only the wiggling of my toe inside my shoe betrays my
discomfort. The lights in here are so bright, I wish I had my sunglasses. They’re tucked in my desk for
situations exactly like this.
“Well, Ms. Miller. We finally meet. You can imagine my surprise to arrive Monday morning,
eager to meet the head of the marketing department and discover she’s missing.” His tone is
challenging, like he thinks I’ll stumble through an explanation of my absence.
