Amelia
I'm starting to feel a bit better.
I'm still a little sore, especially when I walk too quickly, but it's manageable. I step out of the elevator and keep my eyes down. I don't want to look at any of the others, and I don't want to draw any attention to myself.
I'm a little late, about twenty minutes. I know he hates tardiness, but he isn't going to fire me. I know that for sure. The others, though, might find it suspicious. Who cares, though? They're already judging me, and they've already assumed that I'm f*****g Damien. So, let this be the confirmation. I've got better things to worry about.
There's the handwritten letter on my desk. I haven't been making copies of it, I'm paranoid about cameras. I snap an occasional picture and send it to Devon, but I don't know if he's wo
