Hallie disappears down the hall after a cheerful goodbye. I head back into my office, closing the door behind me. I sink into my chair, glancing at the monitor like it’s my enemy.

Today’s forty-seven unread emails stare back at me like a wall that I don’t have the tools—or the patience—to climb. I scroll through a few subject lines, already feeling the beginnings of a headache pulse behind my eyes.

I hate this part of the job. Words blur together. Sentences tangle. Numbers shift out of order. It’s not new—I’ve dealt with it my whole life—but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating. The only thing worse than reading this shit is trying to understand it before I’ve had three coffees.

I click on the text-to-speech software I’ve started relying on more lately. The calm British voice kicks in, and I settle in, listening as it reads a vendor proposal aloud. The voice butchers a few words and I wince.

“…quarterly revenue margins reflect a strong anal uptick…”

I groan. “Nope. We are not doing strong anal upticks this quarter but thanks.”

If Magnolia were here, she’d be cracking up right now—snorting into her coffee, already reaching for her phone to record me muttering curses at a confused robot.

I shake it off, push the chair back, and stand, trying to relieve the tension in my neck. But it’s not simple tension. It’s the heaviness that lingers when the one person who makes this bearable is so far away.

I glance at my desk hoping for a new message or missed call, but my phone’s not there. I pat my pockets and scan my desk again.

“Courtney?” I call out, already heading for the door.

She has my phone in hand. “You left it on my desk.”

I take it, nodding. “Thanks.”

I close the door behind me and glance down at the screen, thumbing it unlocked.

Finally! Magnolia messaged me.

I have good news! Call me the minute you get this text.

A slow smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. My chest eases, the tension I’ve been carrying since this morning loosening a little. She has good news. I bet she got confirmation on returning to Sydney.

Her next text is a long paragraph. I already know I’m not in the right headspace to wrestle through reading that many words on my own, so I tap the text-to-speech option, letting the robotic voice read it out for me.

But what I hear next steals the air from my lungs.