VICTORIA'S POV
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The little mouse on my laptop's screen hovers over the send button, my heart beat roaring in my ears as I stare blankly at my resignation letter via email. My gaze lifts to the name at the top, Tomas Horton. So many years, so many hours and nights I've given up to please this man, which wasn't very hard since I was extremely good at my job, and I just know he's going to freak the f**k out. A strand of curled hair falls forward over my shoulder, and I tuck it behind my ear while staring blankly at the screen, rallying my courage. All I have to do is hit send. The only action required is for my finger to push down on the button to click it.
So easy, yet so very hard to escape a life I've grown to love.
The little chime of my front door bell rings out inside my apartment
