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Chapter 9: The feeling is flawed
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Chapter 11: Racers for the track
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... epped into my small, glass-walled office. Monday morning. I set my bag down, smoothing my blouse, a nervous habit, before booting up my computer.
Just focus on work. Ignore everything else.
But my phone chimed before I could even open my email. The office group chat. Dozens of notifications piled up, a flood of mocking emojis and—
My stomach dropped.
A video of me Drenched and humiliated at the party, frozen mid-panic under the spotlight. The caption: "Look who’s ...
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