I knew it was from Mark, using a burner number or a web service.

I looked out the window of the break room.

The rain was pouring down now, washing over the glass in heavy sheets.

The city lights were blurry and distant.

I felt completely alone.

I looked at the business card again.

I took a deep breath, unlocked my phone, and began to dial the number.

The line started to ring.

One ring.

Two rings.

On the third ring, the line clicked.

“Daniel Morrison,” his deep voice answered.

“Daniel,” I said, my voice cracking. “It’s Victoria.”

There was a brief pause on the other end.

“Victoria? What’s wrong? You sound upset.”

“Mark did it,” I said, tears starting to sting my eyes. “He went to James Hendricks.”

“They’ve called an administrative hearing for tomorrow morning.”

“They are trying to fire me.”

“Where are you now?” Daniel asked immediately.

“I’m still at the hospital,” I said. “In the break room.”

“Stay there,” Daniel said. “I’m coming back.”

“No, you don’t have to do that,” I protested. “You have Chloe.”