Turning to the envelope, I see my name written in anelegant script on the front. I break the crimson wax seal and pull out a card printed on heavy cardstock. A handwritten note reads?—
Welcome to Excelsior Parks. We’re happy to have you joining the staff. Hope your first day isn’t too overwhelming.
“There’s no signature,” I say, running my thumb over the raised ink.
The rep shakes her head. “There never is. He likes to remain a man of mystery.” She hands me the badge. “Wear this on your outermost layer. We’ll take care of your permanentbadge once you finish your paperwork and you’ve been given an employee ID number. The boss has assigned you to Anya Sharma’s team. She’ll meet with you a little later this morning. In the meantime, I’ll take you up to HR.”
The receptionist leads me to a small conference room on the eleventh floor. “Kaori, this is Jim.” A man in a loud floral Hawaiian shirt stands from behind a table and waves. “He’s the head of HR for the office.”
“Thanks, Nina. I’ll take it from here.” He waits for the door to click shut before he continues. “My counterparts in London clued me in on your, uh, situation.”
My eyes widen. I’d almost forgotten that I’d have to share that Grand Canyon-sized part of myself with anyone. “Oh. Great.” I hesitate, shifting my weight from foot to foot.“Er... is there any way we can keep the circle of people who know about my title to a minimum? I’d like to try and be as normal as possible here.”
Jim nods, his expression softening into something genuinely kind. “That’s our goal. Outside of Mara in London, the only people in the Orlando office who need to know are myself—since I’ll be processing your tax and payroll forms—our head of security, and the head of legal. And believe me, Mitch, the lawyer, is already on it. We’ve all signed NDAs.”
I exhale. “That’s a load off my mind.”
“I’m sure.” Jim laughs. “I think you’ll find that the office is more of a family than... well, a corporate machine. We take care of our own. At least our branch does.”
With that, he hands me a neat stack of forms, and I take a seat to begin signing and initialing page after page. It’s boring, repetitive work, but it’s exactly what I need to settle my mind right now.
I love the anonymity of it all. Here, I’m just another name on the roster, a small cog in a massive machine. Just Kaori Minami.
“That wraps up my part of the job,” Jim says about an hour later. “From here, you’ll be meeting with security. I understand you don’t have any protection officers with you?”
“No,” I confirm. I haven’t had a protection detail assigned to me since last year. I do carry a panic button that’s routed to the police, but the Imperial Household Agency determined the risk is low enough that I only need a shadow for official events.
The first time I walked into a grocery store alone, I felt a strange, chilling lightness. For twenty years, my space had been defined by silent men in suits. Without them, every time a stranger brushed past me to reach for a carton of milk, a frantic alarm went off in the back of my head, and I expected someone to intervene.
It was a slow, shaky realization that the only thing standing between me and the rest of the world was my own two feet. It was terrifying, yes, but also thrilling. I don’t think I’d be able to go back to having a full-time detail again.
“Okay, that should make things a little easier, but they’ll still want to meet with you to go over the building’s emergency protocols,” Jim says.
“Of course,” I say, standing up. “Lead the way.”
After onboarding and stopping by security, I’m introduced to my new team. It’s a small, diverse group. My supervisor is Dr. Anya Sharma—a sharp, energetic engineer who specializes in structural design. Her office is a whirlwind of blueprints and scale models, but she leads me to a tidy desk with a shiny new laptop and tablet waiting for me.
“Go on and get settled in, Kaori,” she says. “I have a project for you once you’re ready. We’ll start you off with something simple, a stress analysis for one of the projects I’m overseeing. It’s early in development, so it could use a fresh pair of eyes.”
Her words make me perk up. “I’m ready now,” I say, probably sounding like an overexcited puppy seeing daylight for the first time.
She chuckles. “Get your computer set up first. You’ll need to swing by IT. After that, you can dive in. Come find me if you have any questions. Welcome to the team.”
I nod. Maybe a little too fast. Of course she’s right. There’s a process to everything. Still, the urge to prove myself right away buzzes under my skin. Every part of me is itching to show I belong here. I take a few steadying breaths and remind myself—one step at a time.
“Sounds like a plan,” I tell her.
The first weekat Excelsior Parks is like experiencing the accelerated rise and fall of Zombie’s Revenge, the star attraction at the Dreadwood Manor theme park, on a permanent loop. Luckily, Dr. Sharma—or Anya, as she insisted I call her from day one—is already proving to be the kind of mentor I didn’t know I needed.
She’s sharp, direct, and utterly allergic to sugarcoating. Her tough-love approach keeps me on my toes, but she never pushes me without a reason. Every challenge feels a little like a test, but also like she’s saying,I trust you with this.
Take the project she handed me on day one—a new coaster concept called Quantum Leap. It was supposed tobe a “simple stress analysis.” But I should’ve known that was engineering speak. There’s no such thing as simple.
The design uses a new type of propulsion technology for a vertical drop. It’s something no other theme-park design firm has attempted. My job? Figure out whether the passenger capsule can survive the ridiculous g-forces it’ll experience without bending, breaking, or turning its passengers into modern art. So no pressure, right?
By Friday afternoon, I’ve settled into a rhythm and officially surrendered any hope of keeping my desk clean. It’s scattered with half-scribbled Post-it notes, diagrams, blueprints, coffee cups, and some stray charging cables. In other words, it’s indistinguishable from every other desk in the office.
Around ten, I’m bent over my screen, making a few adjustments to my final calculations, when Anya appears, rapping her knuckles lightly against the edge of my desk. “Kaori, your latest numbers look promising,” she says with an approving nod. “I want you to sit in on Monday’s design meeting with me. You’ve got a sharp eye, and the rest of the office and Riverton need to see it.”
