ISABELLE

The clock on my desk blinked 9:47 PM in glaring red numbers, and my eyes burned from staring at the screen for hours. “Another Monday from hell”, I thought, my fingers flying over the keyboard as I tried to finish the last of the reports Mr. Montero had dumped on my desk at 4:59 PM.

He sure had a knack for timing his demands perfectly, just late enough to ruin any plans I might’ve had for the day.

Not like I had plans to begin with.

My phone screen lit up, vibrating against the desk. I clenched my fist in anger as I saw the two messages that popped...