Dante

She was standing by the door with her back straight, head slightly bowed and mouth shut. I sat behind my desk and tapped my fingers on the polished wood, squinting at her motionless form. It was day three. It was her third day of working directly under me and by some miracle, I was losing it.

“Well, you’re still breathing, at least,” I added, sighing to see the look on her face. But I got nothing. Not even a twitch. She didn’t even blink.

I moved back in my chair and let out a ...