RHEA'S POV:
"I— I'll call maintenance immediately, sir," I said to the tiled wall with deep emotional commitment.
"Do that," he replied calmly.
He walked toward the door, then paused.
"And Rowan?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Next time I want my entire office clean I won't tolerate tardiness ."
The door closed.
Silence returned.
I turned slowly toward the mirror.
Rowan's face stared back at me, looking just as traumatized as I felt.
"Oh my God," I whispered.
My hands gripped the sink.
"That man is going to kill me one day."
I splashed a little water on my wrists — carefully avoiding my face — and took a deep breath.
Okay.
Everything was fine.
Identity intact.
Job technically intact.
Dignity slightly injured but alive.
Progress.
After one last check in the mirror, I left the restroom and walked back toward my desk like a soldier returning from battle.
The secretary glanced at me briefly.
"You look pale," she said.
"I saw things," I replied.
She didn't ask.
Smart woman.
