Page 25

Two days later, the staff lounge at the bank was still abuzz with excitement as everyone discussed Saturday's revelation, which by now had reached viral status on every social media platform. It seemed the idea of shifters right here in the Hudson Valley had everyone on the edge of their seats with excited speculation. Harper escaped before anyone could engage her in conversation, and headed to the relative safety of her office.

Checking under her desk where she'd left the brownie's offering dish, she discovered the angel food cake portion that she'd left the night before had vanished, and in its place sat a delicate paper crane fashioned from what she suspected was one of Vanessa's expensive rose-colored sticky notes. She lifted it with an amused laugh, studying its intricate folds before setting it beside her computer where she could enjoy its whimsy. Who knew that brownies had a sense of humor?

Harper shuffled through her morning paperwork, reviewing investment portfolios and making notes for the day's client meetings.A movement at her door caught her attention, and she looked up to see Lydia standing there, her lynx-like grace evident even in human form.

"How's it going out there?" Harper asked, gesturing vaguely toward the bank lobby.

Lydia slipped into one of the chairs facing Harper's desk, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Better than expected, actually. The response to Katerina's interview has been overwhelmingly positive. Are you following it on social media?"

A shudder went through Harper's frame. "Not a chance," she mumbled, but Lydia only laughed.

"Well, you should. She's trending everywhere. And Bethany, who handles the Valley Travel account, says the owner is overwhelmed with people booking vacations and tours this summer."

Harper giggled. "Oh, my God. Really?"

"Mmhmm," Lydia replied. "All hopeful of seeing shifters. Some are even asking her if they have a shifters tour."

Staring at Lydia, Harper fought down the urge to facepalm. "You're kidding," she said blankly.

"No, I swear."

"But no problems? On social media, I mean?"

"Oh, there are always skeptics," Lydia said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "A whole bunch of them are claiming it's an elaborate hoax - special effects, CGI, that sort of thing." She snickered. "But my favorite has to be one of our customers who came in this morning, clutching her pearls and declaring that shapeshifters are clearly a sign of the end times."

Harper couldn't help but laugh. "End times? Really?"

"Oh yes. According to her, we're all demons sent to herald the apocalypse." Lydia rolled her eyes. "I had the hardest time keeping a straight face while she was ranting about it. If she only knew who she was telling this to!"

Harper snickered.

"What about you? Have you had any clients asking about..." Lydia gestured vaguely, "everything?"

"Just Mr. Jameson," Harper said. "But he was more curious as to whether I'd ever actually met a shapeshifter, than concerned that they exist. Once I steered the conversation back to his portfolio, he seemed satisfied."

"Good," Lydia approved. "That's exactly how we want to handle it. Yes, this is all new and shiny and needs to be acknowledged, but first and foremost, we're a bank."

Lydia rose from her chair with characteristic feline grace. "Keep me posted if anything comes up," her manager said with a warm smile before heading back to her duties.

Turning back to her work, Harper felt lighter than she had in weeks. Her computer hummed quietly as she reviewed investment portfolios and prepared for upcoming client meetings.

To her surprise and relief, the Hostile Harpies seemed to be keeping their distance today. There were no mysterious mishaps with her office supplies, no pranks, no sabotage of her belongings. Perhaps they were too distracted by the shapeshifter revelation to focus on tormenting her. Whatever the reason, Harper welcomed the reprieve.

At lunchtime, Harper collected her purse from the desk drawer she kept it locked in. She was eager to sample the recently opened Thai restaurant around the corner that Nathan had suggested. The tranquil efficiency of her morning had left her feeling upbeat. It had been ages since she'd experienced an entire morning without the Hostile Harpies doing something to ruin her peace of mind.

An hour later, she returned to the bank feeling refreshed after her lunch. The spicy basil chicken had been exactly what she needed - the perfect blend of heat and flavor. She smiled, already looking forward to telling Nathan about it later.

Nodding at Jake, who stood guard by the front door as she entered the bank, Harper made her way to her office. She was humming a little tune under her breath, feeling a glow of well-being, when she came to an abrupt halt, freezing in her office doorway, the acrid stench of smoke and ash assaulting her nose. Her hand gripped the doorknob as she struggled to process the scene before her. Her once-orderly desk had transformed into something from a nightmare… an all-too-familiar nightmare.

Papers lay scattered across the floor, their edges blackened and curling. Grey ash coated every surface like volcanic fallout, turning her workspace into an apocalyptic landscape. But it was the candle wax that made her blood run cold.

Thick rivers of grey wax had flowed down her computer monitor, solidifying in grotesque stalactites that dripped onto her keyboard. The waxy streams spread across her desk, transforming her workstation into something that looked like it was decomposing before her eyes.

Small bits of debris littered the area, evidence of deliberate destruction. Her gaze fell on the smoke detector lying on the floor, as if it had fallen during an actual fire. Her fox's heightened sense of smell picked up traces of smoke that still lingered in the air, mixing with the sharp scent of melted wax.

Reyna stirred restlessly within her, hackles rising at this violation of their territory. The origami crane - the brownie's gift - lay crushed beneath a glob of wax, its delicate paper wings permanently sealed in grey.

Harper's vision blurred as memory slammed into her with brutal force. The acrid smell of smoke transported her back four years, to another bank, another desk. She'd been reviewing quarterly reports when the first wisps of smoke had curled under her office door. The fire alarm had blared seconds later, but she'd already been moving, fox instincts alerting her to danger before human senses could catch up.

The evacuation had been chaotic. Smoke had filled the corridors, thick and choking. She'd helped guide others to safety, her enhanced senses proving invaluable even as she'd struggled to keep her fox contained. The terror of being trapped, of being discovered, had paralyzed her until a security guard - Jake - had physically pulled her through the exit.

When they'd finally been allowed back into the building days later, her desk had looked exactly like this - papers scattered and charred, everything coated in ash, wax from melted emergency candles dripped across her workspace.

The memory overlapped with present reality until Harper couldn't tell which was which. Her throat constricted, lungs refusing to draw breath. Her limbs felt leaden, frozen in place as she stared at the grotesque recreation before her.

Flee! Reyna urged in her mind, but Harper's body wouldn't respond. The ash seemed to mock her, a grim reminder of how quickly safety could turn to ashes. The wax, still glistening as if freshly melted, made her skin crawl. It was as if time had folded back on itself, thrusting her into a moment she'd fought so hard to forget.

Reyna whimpered, the sound echoing through Harper's mind, finally breaking through her paralysis. She stumbled backward until her back hit the door frame, the solid surface the only thing keeping her upright. She barely even registered the cruel titters of Vanessa, Tiffany, and Janis in the distance.

Harper's heart hammered in her chest as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. This was beyond a simple prank or act of workplace bullying. This was personal, targeted – and terrifying.

Her fingers trembled as she pulled her phone from her purse, struggling to press the right buttons. The screen blurred before her eyes as she pulled up Jake's number.

"Jake? Can you... can you come to my office? Please?" Her voice cracked on the last word.

"On my way."

She heard his footsteps approaching at a run moments later. Jake appeared in her doorway, his face hardening as he took in the scene.

"Don't touch anything," he ordered, pulling out his own phone. "I'm calling Lydia."

Harper nodded mutely, unable to tear her gaze from the destruction. The acrid smell of smoke burned her nostrils, making her fox whimper. Danger , Reyna insisted. Not safe here.

She heard Jake curse as he got Lydia's voicemail. "She's at lunch."

"Harper?" Kelly's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. "Step back, sweetie. Let's get you away from here."

Jake's hand settled on her shoulder, gentle but firm as he guided Harper away from the doorway, into the main room. "I'm calling the police."

The words penetrated Harper's fog of panic. Police meant questions. Questions meant attention. Attention was dangerous.

"No," she whispered. "No police. Please."

"Harper." Kelly's voice was steel wrapped in silk. "This isn't a simple office prank. This is criminal vandalism, and possibly attempted arson. We need to document everything."

The truth of Kelly's words sank in, but it didn't make the prospect any less terrifying. Harper wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop shaking. The smell of smoke seemed to follow her, clinging to her clothes, her hair, her skin.

"I can't..." Harper's voice broke. "I can't breathe."

Harper couldn't tear her gaze from the ashen disaster before her, her mind reeling. The acrid scent of smoke filled her nostrils, so real, so vivid, she could almost see tendrils of it curling through the air. Her chest tightened, each breath becoming a struggle.

The crackle of imaginary flames filled her ears, drowning out the usual office buzz. Phantom heat licked at her skin, sweat beading on her forehead. In her mind's eye, orange flames danced along the edges of her desk, consuming everything in their path. Panicked screams echoed in her memory, the terrified voices of her former coworkers as they fled the inferno. Harper's own voice joined the chorus, a strangled whimper escaping her throat.

She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry, coated with the taste of ash and fear. Each inhale burned, as if the smoke was real, filling her lungs and choking off her air supply.

Some distant part of Harper's mind recognized the irrationality of her reactions. This wasn't real. There was no fire, no immediate danger. But that logical voice was drowned out by the overwhelming tide of panic. Her fingers clutched the edge of the door frame, knuckles white with the effort. It was the only thing keeping her upright as her legs threatened to give way beneath her. She wanted to run, to escape, but her body refused to obey.

Reyna whined in distress, sharing Harper's fear but unable to break through the paralysis gripping them both. The fox's panic only amplified Harper's own, creating a feedback loop of terror.

Harper's breath came in short, sharp gasps. Black spots danced at the edges of her vision as hyperventilation set in. She knew, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, that this was a panic attack. But knowing didn't help. She was trapped, a prisoner of her own memories and fears.

The world narrowed to the nightmarish scene before her and the thundering of her own heart, as she was caught between the horror of her past and the shock of the present, unable to move either forward or back.

"Harper!" Jake's strong hands gripped her shoulders, turning her away from the nightmarish view. His blue eyes, filled with concern, searched her face. "Harper, can you hear me?"

She tried to respond, but no words came. Her lungs burned, desperate for air that seemed just out of reach. Harper gasped and wheezed, her body trembling with the effort to breathe.

Jake's voice softened, "It's okay, Harper. You're safe. Try to take slow, deep breaths."

More voices joined the commotion, a cacophony of shocked exclamations and hurried whispers. Harper's gaze darted around, taking in the growing crowd of coworkers. Some wore expressions of genuine concern, others looked merely curious.

Then she saw them. Vanessa, Tiffany, and Janis stood at the edge of the group, their faces a mix of feigned innocence and barely concealed triumph. Tiffany's lips curled into a smirk, her eyes glittering with malicious satisfaction.

The sight of their victorious stares sent a fresh wave of panic through Harper. Her knees buckled, and she would have collapsed if not for Jake's steady support.

"Easy there," Jake murmured, his arm wrapping around her waist to keep her upright.

As Jake began to guide her away, Harper caught snippets of conversation from the gathered crowd.

"What happened in there?"

"Is that... ash?"

"Who would do something like this?"

Jake's jaw clenched as he surveyed the scene, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. But as he looked back at Harper, her eyes wide with terror and her breath coming in short, panicked gasps, his anger gave way to concern. He recognized the glazed look in her eyes, the way she seemed to be staring at something only she could see. Harper was caught in a flashback, reliving the past. Pushing aside his fury at the women who had orchestrated this cruel prank, he focused solely on Harper. The commotion around them faded away as he gently cupped her face in his hands.

"Harper," he said softly, trying to catch her gaze. "Can you tell me what you see?"

Her lips trembled as tears welled up in her eyes. "The woman," Harper choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "She's burning. Oh God, she's on fire! I couldn't get to her…"

Jake's heart clenched at the raw anguish in her voice. He shook her shoulders gently, just enough to try and break through her mental fog.

"Harper, look at me," he urged, his voice firm, demanding her compliance. "Focus on my face. What do you see?"

Her eyes, still wide with anguish, slowly shifted to meet his. Jake held her gaze steadily, watching as confusion flickered across her features.

"That's it," he encouraged. "You're doing great. Now, can you tell me three things you can see right now?"

Harper blinked rapidly, her gaze darting around before settling back on Jake. "I... I see you," she stammered. "And... the mural. And... people."

Jake nodded, relief washing over him as he saw a hint of awareness returning to her eyes. "Good. Now, what are two things you can hear?"

Harper swallowed hard, her breathing beginning to slow. "Your voice," she said after a moment. "And... someone's phone ringing."

"Excellent," Jake praised. "Last one. Can you tell me one thing you can feel?"

Harper's brow furrowed in concentration. "Your hands," she finally answered, her voice steadier now. "They're warm."

Jake smiled softly, seeing the fog of panic lifting from Harper's eyes. "That's right. You're here with me, Harper. You're safe."

Jake's arms tightened around Harper protectively as he scanned the gathered crowd. His gaze landed on the trio of women at the edge of the group - Vanessa, Tiffany, and Janis. Their smug expressions sent a surge of fury through him.

"You three," Jake growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Why the fuck would you do this?"

The women exchanged startled glances, their triumphant smirks faltering under Jake's accusatory glare.

"We don't know what you're talking about," Tiffany said, her tone unconvincingly innocent.

Jake's eyes narrowed. "Don't play dumb with me. This has your fingerprints all over it."

Vanessa stepped forward, her chin lifted defiantly. "You can't prove anything. Maybe Harper just can't handle a little workplace stress."

Jake's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He took a step towards the women, his body trembling with barely contained rage.

"A little workplace stress?" he repeated, his voice rising with each word. "You call this a little stress? This is stalking, plain and simple. And I'll be damned if I let you get away with it."

The women shrank back, their bravado withering under the force of Jake's anger. Tiffany and Janis exchanged nervous glances, edging away from Vanessa as if to distance themselves from the confrontation.

"What's going on here?"

The authoritative voice cut through the tension, drawing all eyes to the newcomer. Ethan Carter, the bank president, stood at the edge of the gathered crowd, his brow furrowed in concern.

Jake turned to face Ethan, his arm still wrapped protectively around Harper's shoulders. "Mr. Carter, I'm glad you're here. We have a serious problem."

Ethan's gaze swept over the scene, taking in Harper's ashen face and the hostile stares of the three women. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the disaster that was Harper's office.

"What happened?" he demanded, striding forward to get a closer look. "Is that... ash?" He poked at the grey blob covering Harper's keyboard. "Wax?"

Jake nodded grimly. "It appears these three," and he gestured to the trio, "thought it would be funny to recreate a traumatic bank fire from Harper's past."

He cast a meaningful look at Vanessa, Tiffany, and Janis. The women fidgeted under the combined examination of Jake and Ethan, their earlier bravado dissolving.

Ethan's expression grew stern as he pivoted to confront the trio. "Is this accurate? Were you responsible?"

Vanessa attempted to object, but Tiffany interrupted her. "It was merely a prank," she blurted out defiantly.

"Yeah, just a jest," Janis remarked childishly. "Harper can't take a joke, I guess."

"This… you call this a prank?" Kelly exploded, clearly enraged. Her eyes surveyed Harper's workstation. Plastic sheeting shielded the actual desk from harm, but it was blanketed in ash and scorched debris. Gray wax effectively mimicked the appearance of a melted monitor and keyboard, while shaving foam imitated fire extinguisher residue. Burned papers in the trash indicated where the acrid stench came from, although it in no way accounted for the amount of ash coating every surface.

"This is far more than a prank. Considerable preparation went into this," Jake stated, addressing Ethan. He flipped over a partially incinerated calendar on Harper's desk. His voice trembled with anger. "They investigated her, uncovered information about the bank blaze in California where we were both working, four years ago. They must have scoured news articles for images, because this..." and he gestured to encompass the entirety of her desk, "This was orchestrated, intentionally arranged, to mirror one of those published photographs. Then they gathered items to char and incinerate, and procured ash, soot, wax, to bring here solely for this purpose."

Harper shuddered, still half stuck in the past, in that fire, the heat, the alarms and screams. The smoke. The cuts on her legs as she crawled through glass from exploded overhead lights. Kelly crouched down before her.

“Keep breathing, in and out. Just focus on that,” she encouraged, her voice soft with sympathy. She raised her voice a little as she spoke over her shoulder. “She's in shock. Can someone make a cup of hot tea, lots of sugar?”

“I will.” That was Megan, one of the tellers. "I'll be right back."

Harper coughed, and whispered, “It’s okay - it's better.”

"And it will be even better once you have something warm," Kelly promised her. "Remember that the smoke isn't real. The air is fresh and clear - just focus on taking it into your lungs."

She nodded, but struggled to take in a deep breath, her hand going to her throat. “I know. I just… it feels like I can’t breathe. I know it’s not real, but I still can’t…”

“I have an inhaler.” A hand appeared in her vision, the inhaler thrust under her nose. “If she uses it, it might help overcome the psychological effects.”

“That’s a good idea.” Kelly took it and passed it to Harper. “Here, try this.”

Harper took it obediently, and inhaled two puffs before raising her eyes to see who’d given it to her. It was Amelia, one of the bank’s loan officers, and she managed a smile. “Thank you. That did help. I’m not actually short of breath...”

“Your brain just thinks it is.” Amelia smiled and patted her shoulder. “This will help to trick your brain into believing your lungs are getting the oxygen they actually are.”

“Yes,” Harper said, grateful for the understanding. She had to keep her words and sentences short, or that awful feeling returned, of not being able to get enough air.

Megan returned with a large mug of steaming tea, and thrust it into her hands. “Here you are.”

Harper took it and sipped cautiously. She glanced around, and flushed, starting to feel embarrassment at being such a focus.

Jake, apparently, was still good at reading her, because he gave her a pointed look. “Don’t even,” he cautioned. “Drink your tea, and just don’t even go there.”

He rose to his feet, turning his attention to Ethan and Kelly, who wore matching expressions, clearly both appalled and angry.

“Just so you know, this isn’t all these three have done, this is just the worst of it. Her lunches in the lunch room refrigerator have consistently been trashed. All the pens on her desk are somehow mysteriously always out of ink, so she has to lock up working pens in her drawer. She brought in a vase of flowers one day, and they took it to the women’s room while she was on break and vomited in it, so it stank and she had to throw out the flowers. It's been ongoing and constant.”

Kelly's expression was one of shock and dismay. "That's dreadful!" she exclaimed. "How long has this situation persisted?"

"From the moment she set foot here," Jake responded, his tone somber. "They ambushed her here in her office the very first day and informed her she had no business being here, that she'd usurped Tiffany as Benjamin's replacement."

Ethan's forehead creased with concern. "Harper, why didn't you tell us?" he inquired. "We would never have permitted this to go on."

Jake ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I can explain why," he stated, his fiery glare sweeping over the trio of tormentors. "She wished to avoid drawing attention to herself. All she wanted was for the harassment to stop. But they refused to relent. And Harper isn't the sole victim, either."

"Jake, please," she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. Harper reached out blindly, her trembling fingers searching for his forearm in a desperate attempt to calm him. "Don't." The words caught in her throat, thick with emotion and unshed tears.

Jake's jaw clenched, his eyes blazing with a fury she'd never seen before. "Someone has to," he said, his voice low and dangerous, each word dripping with righteous anger. "This is their family's bank. They deserve to know why, over the past few months, three excellent employees have left with no notice and explanation." His hands balled into fists at his sides, knuckles white with tension as he struggled to contain his rage.

"Three. Other. Employees." Ethan's gaze, as cold as Jake's was hot, came to rest on the women. His eyes narrowed, glinting with a steely resolve that sent a chill through the room. Kelly stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder with her brother, her posture mirroring his unyielding stance. "Get your things," she told them, her voice sharp and brooking no argument. "Now. You're fired, and we want you out of this bank."

"It wasn't even a real fire!" Janis protested, her shrill voice taking on a wheedling tone. "We put plastic over everything first. The wax isn't actually stuck to anything." She gestured at Harper's desk. "Nothing's really damaged. It was just supposed to be funny!"

The tea in Harper's mug rippled as her hands shook. Bile rose in her throat at Janis's casual dismissal. They had researched an actual fire, deliberately recreated her nightmare, and now they were trying to minimize it? The acrid smell of smoke still clung to her nostrils, making her stomach churn.

"Funny?" Harper whispered, finding her voice at last. Though quiet, her words carried clearly in the hushed bank, the carpeted aisle around her carpet now crowded with onlookers, both bank employees and customers. "You think this is funny?"

She forced herself to look directly at Janis, whose smug expression faltered slightly. "You researched the fire. People died in that fire. You knew I was there, that the smoke got me, that Jake was the one who found me and carried me out." Her voice cracked on the last word, but she pressed on. "And you thought recreating that would be... funny?"

Reyna stirred within her, bristling with protective fury. Harper took another sip of the sweet, hot tea, using the warmth to ground herself in the present moment. The fox's anger helped push back the lingering panic, replacing it with a slow-burning indignation.

"We covered everything in plastic first," Tiffany chimed in, as if that somehow made it better. "The ash will just wipe right off. The wax isn't even stuck to anything."

"That makes it worse ," Jake accused, eyes flashing with fury. "You planned this down to the last detail. How many hours did that take just to plan it out? You deliberately set out to terrorize Harper, from the very first day she arrived, and when you couldn't get her to retaliate, or respond, you escalated to this," and he swept his arm out to encompass the ash-covered office.

Ethan concurred with a curt nod, his jaw clenched tight. "Jake," he said over his shoulder, not taking his piercing gaze from the women. "See they are gone from these premises in five minutes, and ensure they don't do, or take, anything they should not."

"With pleasure," Jake responded, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he cracked his knuckles.

Tiffany's mouth fell open, her eyes wide with disbelief. She stared at Ethan, her voice rising in pitch. "You can't just fire us like that!"

"Don't we get, like, a second chance?" Vanessa chimed in, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. She glanced between Ethan and Kelly, searching for any sign of mercy. "You know, write us up or something, and we'll do better. We promise!"

Ethan regarded the trio with scorn, his lip curling in revulsion. "Are you serious?" he asked, his voice laced with both disdain, and disbelief at their audacity.

Kelly crossed her arms, fixing each woman with a withering stare. Her lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line as she regarded the trio with barely contained disgust. "Out. Now," she commanded, her voice cold and authoritative. "We'll mail you your final paycheck." She paused, her gaze hardening. "Don't ever come back to this bank. If you so much as set foot on this property again, we'll have you arrested for trespassing." The threat hung in the air, her words laced with finality.

"But my account is here," Vanessa whined, her voice grating like nails on a chalkboard. She stomped her foot, her designer heel clicking against the polished floor. Her perfectly manicured hands clenched into fists at her sides, knuckles whitening as she glared at Kelly with a mixture of disbelief and indignation.

Ethan shrugged nonchalantly. "Then transfer it to another bank. Or use the ATM. You'll have plenty of free time to open a new account elsewhere."

He glanced at his watch, the expensive timepiece glinting under the fluorescent lights. "Your five minutes are running out," he added, his tone bordering on boredom. The subtle tap of his foot against the polished floor emphasized his impatience, a silent countdown to their impending departure.

"Don't we get at least two weeks' notice?" Vanessa pressed her luck, her voice tinged with desperation.

Harper gazed into her cup of tea, unable to look at her tormentors any longer. Still, she couldn't help musing that apparently, in all their entitled lives, these three had never had to face the consequences of their actions.

"Are you not getting what is happening here? You are done here. You don't get notice, you don't get severance pay," Ethan replied, his British accent clipped and cold. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he delivered the final blow. "What you will get is a police escort if you do not leave these premises immediately. And I assure you, that's not an empty threat."

The three women stood rooted to the spot, staring at Ethan with a mixture of shock and disbelief etched across their faces. Their mouths hung slightly open, as if their brains were still processing the gravity of the situation. Tiffany's expression, especially, held clear indignation that he could actually be speaking to them in that manner. Her perfectly plucked eyebrows arched high on her forehead, and a flush of anger crept up her neck, staining her cheeks a mottled red.

Jake raised his brows. “Ladies? I suggest you get your belongings. NOW!”

The sudden burst of applause from all around made Harper raise her head. She peered at the faces lining the hallway, some poking out from doorways, others craning their necks above the cubicle walls in the open office space.

Flushed with fury, their faces blazing a vivid crimson of humiliation, the three trouble-makers stomped off in the direction of their workstations, their heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. Jake followed closely, his keen eyes darting between them, alert for any sign of trouble. Margot, one of the receptionists, hurried along as well, her face a mask of concern.

"Tiffany's cubicle is around the corner from the other two," Margot informed Jake in a hushed tone, her brow furrowed. She glanced nervously at the retreating figures. "You can't watch all three at once, and I'll let you know if she does anything untoward. I've got a clear view of her desk from my station."

Jake nodded gratefully, his jaw set with determination. The tension in the air was palpable, crackling like static electricity as the group dispersed to their respective workstations.

"I was their target before you," Megan stepped forward from the crowd, addressing Harper with a guilty expression etched across her face. Her shoulders hunched slightly as if carrying an invisible weight. "I'm a single mother, so I didn't have the luxury of quitting, like the others. I'm ashamed to say, I was glad when you came, and they left me alone. It was... a relief, even though I knew it wasn't right."

The panic attack had subsided enough that Harper was able to summon a smile for Megan, her breathing steadier now. A flicker of warmth sparked in her eyes as she recalled Megan's small acts of kindness. "You shared your lunch with me, the times they destroyed mine. Those moments... they meant more than you know."

Megan shrugged, color rising in her cheeks. She cast an apologetic glance at Ethan and Kelly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her blouse. "It was the least I could do. I wish I'd done more, spoken up sooner. Maybe then..." Her voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken regret hanging in the air between them.

Jake and Margot strode back into the room, their faces alight with a mixture of satisfaction and triumph.

"They've left," Jake announced, his azure gaze sweeping across the assembled group. The collective exhale from everyone present was almost palpable.