The security badge is still warm when the HR manager clips it to my blouse. My photo looks pale and startled, like someone who did not have time to prepare for anything. Above my picture sits the Thornton Industries logo, sharp and metallic. It glints under the fluorescent light. For a moment I imagine the emblem is watching me as closely as the man who ordered me here.
The badge feels heavier than it should. Not plastic. More like a weight that will hang from my clothes for months. I touch the edge, trying to make peace with how real this is now.
“Welcome aboard,” the HR manager says, her smile too tight to be comforting. She straightens her blazer, although she has already done that twice since greeting me. “Let us go over a few protocols.”
Her tone is pleasant, but she keeps glancing
