I rush to work the following day. My laptop was misbehaving last night, so I haven't emailed the documents to Mr. Crawford. Running to get to the elevator from the lobby, someone pushes me as they leave the elevator and knocks out all the papers in my hands.
“Oh my God, Mr. Crawford is going to kill me if I lose one of these documents,” I say and quickly pick up the papers off the floor. I’m picking up the papers when I see a pair of men's shoes helping me, and I wonder who this kind gentleman is. With his help, I’m able to get them all quickly without damage.
“Thank you,” I say to the man who helped me, but I’m taken aback when I see who he is.
“I won't kill you unless you’re not done with what I asked you to do,” Mr. Crawford says, handing me the last piece of paper.
His words chill
