Chapter 37: Sofia
I make my way down the hallway, still feeling the weight of everything I’d just witnessed in that office. The word "boss" echoes in my mind, and I can’t shake the realization that the guys run this place. They always seemed in control, but seeing it firsthand—it’s a lot to take in.
As I reach the lobby, I spot a vending machine at the far end of a small hallway, glowing faintly in the dim light. Not far from it, there’s a small coffee stand. The smell of freshly brewed coffee hits me, and for a moment, I’m taken back to my old job. The familiarity of the scent is comforting in a way, almost grounding me after everything. It makes me wonder if my boss would give me bac
I approach the coffee stand, scanning the menu before settling on something simple: a vanilla latte. I watch the barista as he prepares it, the whir of the machine blending with the soft chatter of people around the lobby. When the drink is ready, I take a grateful sip, the sweet warmth instantly calming my nerves.
Next, I head over to the vending machine. I punch in a code for a pack of pretzels, watching as the metal coil inside the machine spins and drops the snack into the bottom. I grab it, tucking it under my arm as I take another sip of my coffee.
I head back toward the office lobby. Once there, I find a plush leather couch by the window and settle in, pulling my legs up underneath me. I open the reader app on my phone and dive into the book I’ve been reading. It’s a small comfort, something to distract me from the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in my mind.
I lose myself in the story for a bit, nibbling on the pretzels I got from the vending machine. But a loud crash interrupts the quiet. I jolt up, turning toward the source of the noise. The receptionist, who was carrying a tray full of glasses, has dropped it, and shards of glass are scattered all over the floor. She’s on her knees, frantically trying to clean up, while an older man—who looks like he’s important and wealthy—stands over her, scolding her harshly.
"You should be more careful!" he snaps, his voice echoing through the lobby. "We’ve got clients coming through here, and you’re making a mess!"
The receptionist’s face turns red with embarrassment as she scrambles to pick up the pieces, and I feel a surge of anger. I watch as he walks off with his clients, still muttering under his breath. Without a second thought, I get up from the couch and head over to her.
“Here, let me help you,” I say, crouching down beside her.
The receptionist looks up, startled. “No, please don’t. If they catch you helping me, they’ll get mad,” she whispers urgently.
I shake my head. “It’s okay. You shouldn’t have to do this by yourself. And that guy shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”
She hesitates for a second, but when she sees I’m not backing down, she lets out a quiet sigh of relief. Together, we quickly clean up the broken glass, tossing it into the nearby trash bin. I can feel the tension in the air, but I work as fast as I can, not wanting the man to come back and see us.
Just as we finish, I spot him walking back into the lobby, but this time, he seems surprised. His eyes scan the now spotless floor, the tray and glass shards completely gone, and the receptionist is already back at her desk, looking composed.
He leaves without another word, and as he walks out the door, I give the receptionist a small wink. She smiles at me gratefully, mouthing a quick “thank you” before I head back to my spot on the couch.
I read for a while, sinking back into the world of my book, trying to ignore the lingering thoughts from earlier. The quiet of the lobby is calming, the faint hum of air conditioning the only sound around me. I don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, the soft click of the front doors opening pulls me from the story.
I glance up to see a man and a woman walk in, a little girl trailing behind them. She can’t be much older than 3 or 4, her small hand clutching a worn-looking pencil case. Her eyes are wide, and though she looks a bit scared, there’s something about her that tells me she’s used to this, like it’s a routine she’s been through many times before.
The man and woman barely acknowledge her as they head toward the elevator. “Wait here,” the woman says sharply before disappearing with the man behind the closing elevator doors.
The little girl is left sitting alone in one of the leather chairs. She’s fumbling with the zipper of her pencil case, her little fingers struggling to open it. I glance around the lobby and realize there’s no one else here—not even the receptionist. It feels wrong, seeing her all by herself, and I can’t just sit by and do nothing.
I close the reader app on my phone, tuck it into my pocket, and make my way over to the vending machine again. I buy a small pack of cookies and an apple juice, then head over to where the little girl is sitting.
“Hi there,” I say softly, crouching down so I’m eye level with her. “Do you need help with your pencil case?”
She looks up at me with wide eyes, her grip tightening on the pencil case, but after a moment, she gives me a shy nod.
“Here, I got you some snacks,” I add, offering her the cookies and apple juice. She takes them hesitantly, her little hands clutching the juice box like it’s the most precious thing in the world.
I help her unzip the pencil case, revealing a small collection of colored pencils inside. As I hand it back to her, she looks up at me again, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you… want to draw with me?”
Her question tugs at something in my heart, and I smile softly, nodding. “Of course,” I say, sitting down next to her. I open the snack and juice for her, and she takes a bite of a cookie before pulling out a few pencils and handing me one.
We start drawing together on a blank sheet of paper from her little notebook. She draws with quick, sure strokes, a mix of shapes and colors, and I do the same, letting her lead.