Chapter 19

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Stacy blinked away a tear as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing a pair of black pumps, a dark grey pencil skirt, and a white button-up shirt. She looked like a professional woman for the first time in her life. She took the matching blazer from the bed, and ran her fingers down the smooth material. It felt cool on her fingers. She threw it over her shoulders, slid her arms into it, and picked up the Prada handbag from her dressing table. The outfit was complete.

For a little while, she let her mind wander. Someday, she would be walking into her own office building in an outfit like this. She would have an assistant who she would tell, "Get me a chai latte and an English muffin. While you're at it ask so-and-so if he did what I asked." Then she would go over to her desk, sit in her high back office chair, and set to work. She would look decent. She would be clean. Professional. No longer the worst of society.

Her buzzing phone eventually pulled her out of her fantasy. Her taxi had arrived. She picked up the stack of printed notes from her bed, skimmed through them one more time, and put them back on the bed. She then opened her drawer, retrieved a notepad and a pen, and put them in her handbag. With a final look in the mirror, she left her apartment and headed out to Buckler & Associates.

 With a final look in the mirror, she left her apartment and headed out to Buckler & Associates

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