As she settled at her desk, the whispers turned into outright ridicule. A group of employees near the coffee station exchanged exaggerated laughs, their voices deliberately loud enough for her to hear.
"Must be nice to have someone open doors for you," one of them said, her tone mocking. "I wonder what it costs to get that kind of service."
"Probably more than we make in a year," another replied, his laughter echoing through the room.
Rita paused, her fingers hovering over her keyboard. She glanced up, her sharp eyes scanning the room. The laughter died down, but the smirks remained. She could feel the weight of their judgment pressing down on her, the sting of their words cutting deeper than she cared to admit.
Taking a deep breath, Rita stood and walked toward the coffee st
