I came in early. Hair clean. Jacket sharp. No headphones. The floor was so quiet I could hear the copier breathe.
Maya arrived with two coffees and a grin that belonged to a raccoon who found a lockpick. “War face,” she said. “I brought you the mean caffeine.”
“I don’t need to mean.”
“You need precise.” She slid a sticky note onto my desk. Three names. Three little symbols next to them. A star, a leaf, a wave.
“Pick your canaries,” she said.
“You sure?”
“You want retaliation,” she said, soft but bright. “Let’s make it tidy.”
We picked the three people who always “just heard” something. Not the worst. The loudest. Then we split the room.
I DM'ed each one a different nothing, dressed like a secret.
To Star: “Heads up, Ifeoma booked me for a confidential training revamp.” Could be bi
