19. Do Not Kill Anyone

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Emara Stone

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Emara Stone

I slap my murderous face on the rectangle screen, and the door of the elevator opens.

Tapping on the digital panel, I drift my gaze towards the girl in the mirror.

She is wearing an off white satin shirt, navy blue skirt, hair sleeked back in a ponytail with her eyes empty from inside and her face frowned down like a certified psychopath.

I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath, then exhale while reciting a mantra, "Do not kill anyone. Do not kill anyone. Do not kill anyone."

*Ding*

The doors of the elevator slides open to the 7th floor and I step out into another unknown floor with vast lobby, numerous glass cabins and people striding here and there with papers in their hands.

Do not kill anyone.

I breathe in deeply and step off the elevator, ready to tackle whatever opportunity awaits for me in this enemy kingdom.

"Emara?"

I stop dead in my tracks after hearing a familiar Indian accent. I turn around to see.. "Hardick?"

The only friend in my class who always saved me a seat, helped me pass those tricky exams, bailed on assignments and been there for me as a silent supporter for all those four torturous years.

"Hardick!" My face lights up, and I launch myself at him without thinking.

He stumbles back a little as I squeeze him in a tight hug like he is the last lifeline on this sinking Titanic.

I thought I was about to die here alone!

"It's good to see you here, Emara." His voice cracks a little under my compressed hug as he says, "You look way so happy!"

I pull away, grinning like an idiot. "I just didn't expect to see you here."

I notice he is wearing formal pants, a shirt that looks bigger than his size, topped off with a tie which probably came from his dad's closet.

"So.. Are you like forced to work here?" I ask him casually, "Or blackmailed?" Too.

Hardick laughs, and I think that is the first time I have seen his teeth.

"Haha! No, Emara. I was selected as one of only three interns from our college." He informs me, proudly.

"Wow! That's unbelievable. Me too." The coincidence is undigestible, but then my curiosity kicks in. "Wait, who is the third intern?"

"You remember Stacey?"

"Stacey?" From Boobie Bungalow Strip Club?

Just then a shy girl beside Hardick waves at me. She is wearing thick glasses, a skirt with sheer black leggings, a shirt and a suit jacket on top, looking like she already works here.

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