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1032 words I’m pacing back and forth in front of the office windows when Ryan ambles in, fresh from a shower in the employee gym on the first floor. “What’s the 411?” he asks, dropping the duffel bag with his clothes and shaving kit on the floor beneath the window. “Just waiting on these fucknuts to get their s**t together.” Rodriguez and Chan are on the other side of the room at Chan’s desk, arguing over who should sit where during the call. O’Doul and Miranda are deep in discussion outside the adjacent office, where Tabby’s been for hours. She’s emerged only once, to shower and grab a sandwich from the food platters delivered at regular intervals from the cafeteria. She’s not eating enough. She’s not sleeping enough. I’m worried about her, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Whi
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