I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that clung to my spine as we stepped into the Clayton Sports Center. The stories I'd heard and read about Mr. Fitzgerald didn't paint a kind or forgiving picture. Linda, on the other hand, appeared remarkably calm.
We climbed the polished oak staircase and found ourselves standing before a set of double doors that led to his office.
I took a deep breath and exchanged a tense glance with Linda. We couldn't turn back now.
“Are you sure you want to go in there with me?” asked Linda, though her tone lacked any sincerity. “Because I can handle this on my own.”
“I’ll be perfectly fine in there,” I said. “Besides, I can’t have you handling all my adversaries.”
She hummed, giving me a sideways glance before turning back to the door. I had practiced my neutr
