* * * *
Can Do Consulting was eerily quiet, to the point where as soon as Kat walked in through the door, the hairs on her arms stood straight up. She turned on the light, and the overhead bulbs flickered on, leading her to Yemi’s reception area. She sat down in the chair, folded her hands together, and then she waited.
Thirty minutes before, while in her rideshare’s car, Kat had sent a series of text messages and phone calls to Monroe, asking him to meet her here. She pretended to be unsound, rambling about marketing tactics and potential clients to work with. She doubted Monroe would believe she was her other-self, but she knew he would take the bait.
Five minutes passed, then ten.
The doors opened. In strode Monroe, wand in hand. His nose was scrunched up in disgust, and he glared a
