Page 33 of I Hope This Finds You Well

The lyrics reach:“Make it deep and messy.”

My insides dissolve. I fully believe in my heart that I’ve lost the will to go on and my body has turned to ash.

Cliff belts out a deep roaring laugh that shocks the dust pile formerly known as me. “Okay, you almost had me. Nice HR test. But again—not going to rattle me.”

I chuckle, but it’s obviously forced. Thankfully, he’s laughing too hard to notice. “Just keeping you on your toes.” I look out the window and see we’ve reached my road. “Oh, by the way, could you pick me up at seven tomorrow? I have to make coffee for everyone.”

Cliff’s gaze lands on me. “Yes, that’s nice of you.”

“It’s no biggie, just joined the Coffee Club.”

I gather my purse and lunch bag. He eyes my laptop. I pretend I need it for paperwork, but really, I’ve been using it to watch Netflix. Another thing HR guys shouldn’t know, off duty or not. “Can I help with your stuff?”

“Oh god, no. I have, like, two things. Plus, we should probably draw the line at going into each other’s apartments.”

Cliff nods. “Good point. I’ll add it to the list.”

I slide out the door. “Thanks again.” I wave.

Miley spots me as soon as I’m through the building door. I give her a head shake—not having it today. Futile.

The tap on my back causes instant dread. “Is that man your boyfriend?”

I sigh as I turn around. I’m about to kindly tell her to mind her business, when I notice her fisted hands and how messy her hair is. But worst of all is her face. Her eyes are wide, and it’s like nobody has properly looked at her at all today.

“He’s sort of a coworker,” I say, and immediately regret placing such an elusive answer in Miley’s hands.

“What’s his job? Do you like him? Is he your boss?”

The stairwell door shuts and rushed high-heeled steps click toward us. Miley’s face drops in a flash.

Miley’s mother rounds the stairwell and doesn’t look up from the phone she’s stabbing with pointed-nail clicks. Her outfit is entirelyblack: leggings, thigh-high boots, and an oversized sweater that hangs off one shoulder. Her makeup would make my mom proud with its drama, and it smells like she just applied an intense coat of hair spray to keep her dark bun in place.

Miley watches her but doesn’t speak. She walks halfway past us—and is she not going to acknowledge her daughter? But then she turns toward Miley and says, “I have to head out. Please don’t spend the night bothering the neighbors with your problems again. I got you a phone.” She then smiles at me apologetically before continuing onward. At the same time, Miley’s chest drops, like she’s a deflating balloon.

I have no idea what to say or do, so I end up blurting out, “Hey, Miley, the other day you asked my favorite animal. I thought about it, and I’m going with zebra.”

“That’s a weird choice, Jolene.” She steps toward the stairs. “I’m going to watch TikToks on the stoop.” She pauses to give me a cheeky grin. “You can fill me in on this work man another day.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t hold back the huff of laughter. “Night, Miley.”

Armin & Rhonda EFFs

Before work even starts, the morning is already going decently. I got in early with Cliff, and during the ride I managed to get him to explain the history of Warhammer and how measuring tape is somehow involved. He was focused enough on driving that he didn’t even notice my eyes glazing over.

In the office I made the coffee without burning it. It didn’t smell great, but it worked, and both Jean Adler and Joy Chan, the other early birds, have already enjoyed a cup, or at least consumed a cup.

More important, I’ve prepared three documents to share with Rhonda. With the morning ready, I move on to my private audits. I check Caitlin’s emails first, but nothing notable appears. Armin has a note from Cliff asking him to schedule a check-in. Shit, I hope Caitlin hasn’t actually convinced him to turn on me.

Next, I check on Rhonda. There’s a new note from Gregory, requesting that she make a virtual logbook for the quarterly reports—or, to be more accurate, a follow-up on the request he sent last month. I double-check and find the original note sitting in herThings to Figure Outfolder.

At this rate, there might be no saving her in time.

One other new message in her inbox pops out:

Congratulations Rhondabear1960,

You’re ready to start meeting people in the area. Welcome to Silver Timings.