I felt like a secret agent waiting for the coded message that would tell me whether or not to go forward with the mission. Everything had to fall into place if I was going to execute my surprise perfectly. Even as I waited, jumping at every comm chirp, I knew there was still a small chance that things wouldn’t work out. We could still go through with the devotion, and that in itself would be a wonderful thing, but I wanted more than wonderful. I wanted perfect.
Finally, the message came through. “It’s approved.”
I let out a noise of excitement that echoed loudly in the high-ceilinged corridor, and a few curious heads poked out of offices like rodents. It would be that night, then, after work. I begged a colleague to come in early so I could skip the tail end of my shift and fled as soon
