Chapter Twenty-Seven
He knows.
The horrific idea circles through my mind, over and over.
When I see him, he’ll lord the information over me, then lock me up in the basement cell until the Kobe cows come home to drink their beer and enjoy their massages.
I take in a deep breath, then another.
When I’m calmer, I realize I have a way to know what he wants without actually going into his office.
Of course.
I can have a vision of what happens if I go.
If he really intends to lock me up, I can try to run for it—though how I’ll make it out is anyone’s guess. Even if I make it to the elevator, he can pull that trick of already being downstairs, like the day when he fired Venessa.
I close my eyes and seek Headspace.
That I succeed is a testament to how good I’m getting at this process. Wi
