Conveniently, there’s only one chair in the room. Manager takes it once he closes the door behind me. Arms folded, he first lectures Lieko about everything she said to me, which was all completely audible on the other side of the door. He tries to get the details out of her on what exactly she was talking about, because he couldn’t understand it all, but his questions are all rhetorical, so Lieko answers none of them. She simply looks down at her shoes, nodding when appropriate, and bowing with a murmured “sumimasen” whenever it seems like it’s her turn to talk. I’ve seen enough Japanese TV shows to know I should do the same.

“Cybelle-sensei.” Manager then turns to me. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m sorry for what I did. It won’t happen again, Manager.”

“Good. Good.” Manager turns his attention back to Lieko.

She peeps up every now and then, but Manager’s tone changes completely. Their whole conversation is in Japanese, but from what I can understand, Manager is pissed for various reasons. He’s not going to be manager for much longer, and Lieko may have had something to do with it. Bucho and others at Head Office want the changeover come springtime, but she’s not going to be in charge for long if she can’t keep the gaijin under control. She will have to do better. I don’t interject because all I can think of is how she knew. When Yoshino was talking about that guy on Tuesday, I had no idea. But all this time, Lieko knew. And the mess she said he left us … she has to mean the typhoon holiday. I wish I could remember something, anything about it — everything that happened around that time is still a nightmarish blur — but rather than tell me, she calls me a monster and expects me to deal with it.

“So, from now on,” Manager switches to English, “what will you do, Lieko-sensei?”

Lieko sniffs. Is she crying? “I will work hard and do my best.”

“And Cybelle,” Manager turns back to me, his tone of voice is still firm, “what will you do now?”

I know what I’m supposed to say. I know what I’m legally obliged to spout in order to appease Manager, Bucho, and the rest of the Zozo gods and not get myself fired three months early. They want to hear me say that I’m sweeping this under the rug with all the other moments I’ve had to sweep under the rug working for this company; to turn yet another blind eye to this malevolent woman and keep working at 110 percent like I always have. But there is one thing about all of this that keeps the words locked in my throat.

It’s the fact that I am not losing my mind. I never did.

“Cybelle?”