Chapter 6

The sight of the spreading pool of blood sent a wave of panic through the other women. They backed away as if I were contagious, their faces pale with shock and fear. Only Ginger remained unmoved.

My heart hammered against my ribs. The pain from my side was a relentless, twisting agony. My body was failing under the sheer force of the trauma.

"Help me," I whispered, reaching out a trembling hand to no one in particular. "Please... call an ambulance."

The blood continued to seep out, mixing with the spilled coffee and grime on the floor.

Ginger looked down at the puddle forming around me, then at the terrified faces of her subordinates.

"What are you all staring at?" she snapped, her voice cold and dismissive. "It's just a little blood. Look at the mess she's making. She's probably faking how bad it is for sympathy."

She nudged my leg with her foot. "You come in here trying to get money, and now you're going to try and sue for an injury? Is that the next part of the scam?"

Her words were so detached, so utterly devoid of humanity, that they barely registered. All I could feel was the pain and the terrifying, sticky wetness.

"A desperate little animal," she continued, her voice laced with disgust. "Bleeding all over the floor. You're a biohazard."

The other women were silent, frozen by her authority and the horror of the scene. No one moved. No one spoke up for me. They just watched, their eyes wide, as I lay bleeding on the floor of a corporate breakroom.

"Please," I begged, my voice cracking. "I'm hurt... please, just call 911."

No one moved. They were waiting. Waiting for it to be over.

Ginger watched me, a look of cold, clinical satisfaction on her face. This was the perfect ending for her. The ultimate punishment. The complete erasure of my attempt to get past her.

Then, she pulled out her own phone.

For a wild, desperate second, I thought she was finally calling for help.

My hope was a fool' s errand.

I heard a familiar voice from the phone' s speaker, filtered and distant, but unmistakable.

"What is it, Ginger? I' m about to go into a meeting."

It was Damon.

My heart leaped. He was right there. On the other end of the line.

"I' m so sorry to bother you, Mr. Moran," Ginger said, her voice instantly transforming into a smooth, sweet syrup of deference. It was the most grotesque thing I had ever heard. "It' s nothing, really. We just had a delivery person get a little... confused. She was insistent on seeing you personally."

"A delivery person?" Damon' s voice was impatient, distracted. "I' m not expecting anything. Just have security handle it."

"Of course, sir. I' ve already taken care of it. She' s gone now."

Liar. Liar. I' m here. I' m bleeding on your floor. I tried to scream, to make a sound, but only a strangled sob came out.

"Good," Damon said. "Don' t let things like this distract you from the quarterly reports."

Then the line went dead.

Ginger smiled, a triumphant, proprietary smile, and held the phone up for the others to see, as if it were a trophy.

"See?" she said to the silent room. "He trusts me. He trusts me to handle everything."

Her victory was absolute. She had intercepted me, brutalized me, and erased my existence, all without him ever knowing I was there.

The last of my strength drained away. The pain was a roaring black tide, pulling me under. My sister was dying. My hope was in a trash can. And my brother, my only remaining family, was just on the other side of a wall, completely oblivious.

The darkness was closing in.