Chapter 63

Amber did this. I know that know for sure, thanks to my co-worker Kimberly, but there’s not a hell of a lot I can do about it, short of confronting Amber directly. But that has the potential to only escalate things.

Amber would probably deny any wrongdoing, and the office would take her side, since she was here longer. I’m sure there’s video feed somewhere, but I don’t want to involve Hugo or any of the management. Lila for certain wouldn’t stand in my corner.

So I quietly clean up my area, then go to wash my hands. When I return to my desk, it’s blessedly still clean, so I sit down and, trying not to inhale too much through my nose, get back to work.

For the next several days, Lila continues to only give me fluff pieces or leads to flush out, only to hand her any results to let her write the article.

I haven’t had a chance to prove myself. Despite my hard work, my name hasn’t appeared on anything that’s actually been printed. Even my article about Miles’ tavern somehow ends up being published under Lila’s name.

I’m disheartened but not totally discouraged. When they go low, I need to go high. I have to rise above childish antics and trust that eventually my time will come.

So I pour my heart into those fluff pieces and do the best I can at chasing down leads. Yet, while I work hard on those assignments, I also create one of my own.

Secretly, on the side, I start working on an opinion piece. I keep thinking of Miles’s words, how the people around him are trying to push him down and hold him back. Don’t they understand how good of a change Miles would be? Can they not see his passion? His dedication? His love of his nation?

As a reporter, I know I must maintain an unbiased opinion on all things so that my articles do not slant in either political direction and alienate half of our readership. Only an unbiased opinion could be an objective one, and Harbinger News Company prided itself on delivering fair and impartial news.

Yet I could not deny that I personally believed in Miles more than I did anyone else. With that belief came an urge to convince others.

In an anonymous opinion piece, I could give voice to my beliefs. I could write freely about how Miles would make a great president, even as such a young man.

Maybe it will help his campaign. Maybe it won’t matter. But it’s something I feel necessary to write, even deep down in my bones.

When I’m writing it, my fingers fly over the keys, I’m so passionate. I swear I’ve never written anything so quickly in my life. As I finish though, I tuck it away for now, to reread and edit later. Thinking on it, I’m not sure I’ve conveyed my opinions well enough.

It has to be concise to be convincing. I’ll have to think on it. I want this work to be my best yet.

As the day continues, Amber eventually returns from whatever assignment she has been on. She peeks into my cubicle as she comes nearer. Then she holds her nose closed with her finger and thumb.

“You stink, Esther,” Amber says. “Did you forget to take your trash out?”

“I know it was you, Amber,” I reply.

“You don’t know anything,” Amber says. She lowers her hand. “Besides, I didn’t do anything wrong. I just lumped all the garbage together.”

“Stop,” I tell her, voice calm and level.

“Or what? You’ll go crying to Lila? Or Mr. Harbinger? No one of any substance actually wants you here, Esther. Why don’t you take the hint?”

“I’m asking you to stop these childish games,” I tell her, raising my voice slightly.

Our other co-workers are starting to take notice. Ever curious as reporters, they turn their heads to look.

“You’re childish,” Amber snaps. She’s noticed our co-workers looking as I have, and now her face starts turning red. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

“I didn’t dump trash into your cubicle.”

“Because you didn’t need to! Because I’ve earned my spot here!” Amber says, her voice rising louder still.

“I’ve proven myself with that interview –”

“You have not! Miles only gave you that interview because he feels bad for you. Everyone feels bad for you, Esther, because you are so damn pathetic!”

“That’s enough!” I snap, standing abruptly to my feet. “You’re embarrassing yourself, Amber. You are acting like a spoiled brat. This is not a playground, this is an office. We are co-workers. You don’t have to like me. You don’t even have to respect me. But you have to let me do my job.”

Amber’s mouth closes as she straightens. Her face is cherry red now.

“Maybe instead of spending so much time worrying about me,” I say, “You should focus on your own work.”

“How fucking dare you?” Amber snaps. “You fucking bitch!”

Her voice echoes through the office. The office is otherwise quiet. Even the click-clack of keys has stopped.

“I have been here longer than you,” Amber continues, seething. She’s so riled up, she likely can’t tell the rest of the office is gaping at her. “I am better than you!”

“What’s going on out here?” Hugo asks, appearing suddenly at his doorway. “Amber! What do you think you’re doing?”

Hugo, face twisted in anger and annoyance, storms down the hallway toward us.

Amber finally closes her mouth. Turning, she takes in the sight of the room, all staring at her, and her face goes pale.

As Hugo comes nearer, his angry scowl rests entirely on Amber. “What is going on out here?”

“Amber and I were having a discussion,” I say.

“I want to hear it from Amber,” Hugo says. “Lord knows she was loud enough before. Tell me, Amber. Why were you raising your voice and calling Esther those names? The entire office heard you. Thank God I wasn’t on the phone.”

As much as I want to handle the bullying on my own, Amber has dug her own grave here. There’s nothing I could say or do to get her out of it, even if I wanted to.

“Maybe you’d be more comfortable speaking in my office. Why don’t I have HR meet us there?” Hugo says. “I’m sure they’d like to hear your reasoning as well.”

Amber lowers her head. “That won’t be necessary…”

“I’m afraid it will be, Amber,” Hugo says firmly. “My office. Now.”

Hugo turns and without waiting for her, returns to his office, likely to call HR.

Amber hesitates as he walks away. Her gaze slips toward me and she glares so viciously that if she had to the power to kill with a look, I’d be dead ten times over.

“You did this to yourself,” I tell her.

“You’ll get yours,” Amber says, a threat. Though what can she possibly do that she hasn’t already done?

Without another word between us, Amber starts forward, following Hugo to his office. I keep standing, watching her go the entire way. The minute she’s out of sight, I drop my gaze to the cubicle pit.

Every pair of eyes is on me.