“I also want to stop coming here. No offense, but I’d do whatever it takes to stop coming here.” Sheela said, gesturing around her. She meant this office. She meant this building. The Wahz nodded and folded her notepad closed.
“You’ve shown good judgement and commitment,” The Wahz said, holding out a business card between two knuckles. It seemed to have materialized out of thin air when Sheela blinked. She hesitated at first, because she already had the number monogrammed on the card committed to memory, being given the same card two years ago. Knowing that it would look bad if she didn’t take it, she reached out. She flipped it over and read a new number, scrawled hastily in blue ink, on the back. She looked up, the surprise plain upon her face.
“It’s my out-of-office number. If you nee
