I knew exactly who I was here. I was secure. And now that’s all been ripped away. Everything
and everyone’s been ripped away. I need to talk to Abigail.
I don’t think I’ve ever phoned her. We have each other’s numbers to text, which we do often, but I
think this warrants an actual phone call. It rings a few times before she picks up. Her voice is
hesitant, guarded.
“Hello,” she says carefully, like she doesn’t know who it is. It’s unlike her. She’s always been
outgoing and in your face, which somehow worked for us.
“Why didn’t you tell me everything was blowing up?”
Her sigh is heavy. “I wanted to. I swear. But they made me sign some paperwork that I wouldn’t
contact anyone from the office or I’d lose my severance pay. It freaked me out. Plus, with Birdie,” her
voice trails off. She knows how much Birdie meant to me, maybe more than anyone.
“Right,” I mumble, tracing one of the big pink flowers on my dress. I run my finger over the petals
along my thigh, trying to think of the right thing to say. At work, I always know what to say. Being in
charge, being in my element, is easier than this. “Are you…okay? I mean, you’re out of a job too.
What are you going to do?”
“I’ve got my half of the rent covered for the next few months, thanks to the severance. I’ve got a
few interviews lined up, but Jason doesn’t want me to worry. He can cover things. What are you
going to do?”
What am I going to do? As I stare at the familiar walls around me, the space suddenly feels
confining rather than cozy. “I’m going to find another job. I’m leaving New York.” Abigail’s gasp is
appropriate. I’ve never left this city. Never. Not for a conference or for vacation. I don’t travel.
Honestly, I rarely leave Manhattan.
“Are you serious? Where are you going to go? Do you think you can find a company that will…”
Her voice trails off, and I can almost picture her reddened cheeks.
I give her a break and finish the sentences she cut off. “Do I think I’ll find a company that will
accommodate my quirks?”
“Yeah. That.”
That’s my worry too. But I have to hope that somewhere out there is a job that will let me be me.
“I believe so. I have several possibilities.”
“Good, that’s good,” she murmurs, sounding lost in thought. “Maya. If you’re going to do this…
