[Sera]
The Voss Group headquarters looked like it was designed by someone who wanted to make poor people cry.
Glass and steel stretching toward the sky like a middle finger to everyone who couldn't afford the view from the top. I'd walked past this building a hundred times during delivery shifts—seen it gleaming against the sunset, glowing like a beacon for the rich and powerful. Never once did I think I'd actually walk inside.
Never thought I'd have to.
I stood on the sidewalk in my nicest clothes—which is to say, my only shirt without visible patches and jeans that were merely faded instead of actively disintegrating.
My reflection in the polished glass doors looked like a ghost. Pale skin. Dark circles. Hair that had given up on professionalism somewhere around 4 AM, when I finally
