There’s a clatter in the hallway, and both Miranda and I turn and look.
Three young men freeze in my doorway.
“We’re not here,” says the tallest of the bunch—a bulky Black man in a gray Pounders T-shirt.
“Yeah, we’ll be here Monday, but we’re not here right now,” a slightly less-bulky but still larger-than-average white man with red hair and a thick red beard says.
The third man—just as built as the first two, with white skin and dark hair—doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he doesn’t look at us or at the potted plant that he’s attempting to straighten.
It’s like he’s telegraphingI’m not here either, and I didn’t knock over this plant in the hallway, I have no idea what you’re talking about.
“Crew, Porter, Zander, meet my sister, Ziggy,” Miranda says, pointing to each in turn. “She can cry on command to test how you’ll all react.”
“You have a sister?” Crew says.
“For real. I didn’t know there were two of you,” Porter says.
“I’m not here, and I didn’t do anything,” Zander says.
“Ziggy’s starting Monday,” Miranda tells them. “Be nice or I’ll make you look terrible on our socials.”
Porter snorts. “We’re always nice.”
“Until you have a rugby ball in your hand.”
“She’s got you there, bruh,” Zander tells him.
“What are you doing here?” Miranda asks all of them.
“We were using the gym—” Porter starts.
“—Because it’s our day off from working at the rock-climbing wall—” Crew continues.
“—And we saw your car in the parking lot?—”
“—So we came to see whyyou’rehere on a Saturday.”
She smiles at them, then looks at me. “These guys are the best. You’ll like them. Promise.”
Crew squints at me. “For real though—why didn’t I know you have a sister?”
“Because we don’t discuss personal matters at work?” Miranda says.
“And probably for the same reason we didn’t even know Miranda existed until we got that email when she started here,” Porter mutters to him.
All three of their phones go off simultaneously, though their ring tones don’t really go together, and all three of them whip out their phones like they’re glad to have a distraction.
“Oh, shit,” Crew says.
“Fuck us,” Porter adds.
Zander just stares at his screen.
“Everything okay?” Miranda asks.
All three of them look up at her, then trade glances, then look at me, then nod in unison.
