It was hot, the interior of her car stank of oil, and her feet smelled like coffee. Amy closed her eyes, trying to still the buzzing in her head. At first she didn’t think she’d be able to fall asleep, but the day had been long and her emotions were toast. After forty-five minutes of sitting and staring and thinking about what a wreck her life had become, after forty-five minutes of wondering how she was ever going to escape Orsk and get a sit-down job, after forty-five minutes of feeling sweat trickling down her ribs, she fell into a state of sticky semiconsciousness. And as her mind closed up shop and went dark, Amy wondered dully if she would be stuck on the hamster wheel forever, stuck in retail forever, stuck at Orsk forever.

But she didn’t have to worry.

Tonight would be her final shift.

03: Arsle

During the day, Orsk was a building like any other, a sensible container built with modern materials to house furniture and people. But after eleven o’clock, when no one roamed its aisles, when its back offices went dark and the last customers were escorted out the front doors, when its entrances were dead-bolted, when its final floor partners went home, it became something else.

Amy, sitting on a toilet in the women’s restroom on the second floor, was unaware of the subtle changes taking place around her. All she knew was that Basil was trying to kill her.

They were just one hour into the marathon overnight shift, and he would not stop bothering her. What did she like about her job? Which parts were most rewarding? Least rewarding? Amy had answered like an actual human being until she realized his questions were nothing more than the opening of a very boring lecture on the importance of human capital in Orsk culture. He spoke at length on the value of teamwork, about store pride, about the Four A’s (Approachable and Agreeable Attitude). He quoted Orsk founder Tom Larsen’s autobiography from memory.

Ruth Anne was pretending to listen, but Amy could see that she was secretly doing Sudoku under the table—and if she could see it, Basil could see it, but he didn’t seem to care. Why was he only targeting Amy? She wanted to tell him she was doing just fine, that she didn’t need his life advice, thankyou-verymuch. He already knew she was transferring back to Youngstown, so why couldn’t he leave her alone? Torn between saying something or suffering in silence, Amy sought sanctuary in the bathroom.