Instead, I grabbed my notebook, flipped to a blank page, and wrote down three things I was grateful for.

I’d started doing that a few months back. Another suggestion from Dr. Lemkin. I’d rolled my eyes at first, but now? It helped.

August 18th

1. A warm bed at the end of a long day

2. That I still remember the exact shade of her eyes

2. That rush of losing yourself in a book mid-sentence

3. Second chances

I stared at that last one for a long time.

Then I closed the notebook and let myself enjoy the quiet.

54

BEVERLY, 2001

19 years old

By day thirteen at ChimeIn, I had mostly figured out how to keep up without looking like a lost duckling.

The swipe card for the elevator finally worked on the first try, and I only accidentally sent one typo-filled memo before Maxine politely suggested that I triple-check things before hitting send.

Progress.

The office itself was quiet—no phones ringing off the hook, no shouting over cubicles. Just the gentle hum of computers, the occasional burst of laughter, and the constant click-clack of keys.

At break, I found myself in the kitchenette with three other girls—Hollis, Clara, and Mona. They were gathered around the small bar-height table, peeling oranges and gossiping like they'd been doing this for years.

I was still the new girl, but they waved me over like I belonged.

Break time at ChimeIn wasn’t really a “break” so much as it was everyone huddling in the corner pretending we were legally required to stand near the espresso machine.

Hollis, who always wore red lipstick and spoke like every sentence was a punchline, leaned in. “So, get this. Someone said the CEO’s actually in town this week.”

Mona raised an eyebrow, mid-sip of her coffee. “He exists?”

Hollis scoffed, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “Of course he exists. And I hope I actually get to meet him this time.”

I blinked. “Wait. You’ve never met him?”

“Nope,” she replied. “Been here since the first version of the site went live, and I’ve only ever spoken to him through email.” She shrugged. “He doesn’t do face-to-face. Likes distance. But he pays me on time, so I don’t ask questions.”

Something about that made the back of my neck prickle.

“I’ve met him,” Clara piped up, licking a bit of yogurt off her spoon. “He does do face-to-face. He’s just super introverted. Doesn’t make eye contact. Speaks in short sentences. Shame, though. He’s hot.”

“You have met him?” Mona looked personally offended.

Maxine slid into the seat next to Clara, setting down her latte with a thunk. She didn’t glance up from her phone as she said, “He’s gay.”

Clara choked on her yogurt. “He’s what?”

“He’s gay,” Maxine repeated. “Pretty sure.”

“Oh my God,” Hollis laughed. “How would you know?”

“I asked him.”

“You what?” Mona froze mid-sip. “You just asked him?”