Page 15 of The Secretary Volume II

I don’t always remember why.I just know I have to.

My journal sits open beside my keyboard, pen resting in the crease.

A single sentence at the top of the page:You had an offer.

I don’t remember writing it.

I stare at the words, heart ticking up a notch.The handwriting is mine, but the memory isn’t.

I close my eyes, willing something—anything—to surface.

Nothing.

I flip back a page.

They are lying to you.

A sharp exhale.

I don’t know whotheyare, but I have a pretty good guess.

I check the date in the corner.Two days ago.

The clock on my screen reads10:23 AM.Monday.

Is it Monday?

I glance around our office floor.People at their desks, eyes glued to screens.Andra’s voice filters through the glass walls of the conference room, clipped and measured.

Normal.Everything looks normal.

But something is wrong.

Ifeelit before I can name it.

I flip another page.

Hollywood called.

My pulse spikes.

I don’t know what’s worse—the fact that I don’t remember, or the fact that IknewI wouldn’t.

I close the journal.Press my fingers into my temples.Think, Gillian.

A knock at my door.

I glance up.Andra.

“Morning,” she says.

Her tone is polite, professional.Too professional.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

She steps inside, closing the door behind her.My stomach tightens.

“How are you feeling today?”

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