Page 11 of Small Sacrifices

He shakes his head. "Just the email I sent with my results."

"Can I look at it?"

He scoots over to give her a better view of his right monitor and shows it to her.

She hums. "Well, the bad news is that this isn't really… anything. It sucks, but looking at it from the outside, you just compiled the facts. Now, of course, that's work that you did, but you can't really do much about it. These things just happen sometimes."

Reid bites his lip until the pain distracts him from his swirling thoughts. That is so unfair. But Marisol isn't finished yet. "From now on, you're going to restate the task you were given in every email in which you send in your results. Okay? Look at me."

When he doesn't respond right away, she taps his knee until he meets her gaze. "Even if he doesn't give you anything in writing, send your work with a note like 'as per your request.' If he doesn't dispute it, that's at least a form of agreement. Then you'll have it in writing if he tries to take credit for something more important."

She holds his gaze until he nods. He already hates the entire situation. He shouldn't have to jump through these hoops just to protect his work. And if Marisol knew Mr. Wright pulled stunts like this, why hadn't she warned him?

"Alright," Marisol continues. "And when the hour is up, you're going to march in there, sweet as apple pie, and request something that he won't be able to just take from you. Something that people will know you're doing because you're collaborating with others. Compiling the itinerary or finding out why the mayor isn't cooperating or communicating with the parents or whatever the fuck. Just ask. Don't complain, don't threaten, don't do anything else. As far as he's concerned, nothing is wrong. Just ask if everything was to his satisfaction and then ask for an assignment. Don't be difficult."

"But—" he tries to interject, but Marisol already has her finger up to stop him.

"Nu-uh. Don't be a squeaky wheel. I know you want to be, but that won't pay off. Not when you're so new. You don't have a problem. Maybe you're even flattered. All you want is a new assignment. Capiche?"

"I think so." Oh God, he hates everything about this. How do things like this happen in government jobs? Why does he need to let it happen if he wants to stay? Because that's what Marisol is saying, if he's understanding her correctly. If he tries to complain about this, that may be enough for him to be fired. And then his parents would be proven right. Reid cannot allow that to happen.

Marisol nods, satisfied. "Right. You gonna be alright?"

Reid isn't so sure about that. But clearly, she wants to return to her work, so he just nods. It gets him a bright grin. "Great! I wish you all the best when the time comes." And then, she crab walks her office chair back to her desk.

To pass the rest of the time, Reid does some more research on Stephanie Greene. Nothing new has shown up on her social media. There are no interviews, no nothing. But he finds one new piece of information on the school website. Ironically, it seems, she oversees something called the Green Earth Initiative in the grade she teaches. There, the kids learn about things like recycling and conservation efforts in national parks. Pictures show her and the kids with colorful posters at some kind of fair. Had she known about the relevance, Reid imagines, she may even have taught the kids a unit on pesticides.

It only makes him more apprehensive about knocking on Mr. Wright's door when the time comes.

"Come in!"

The office looks just like it did yesterday, all paper stacks and strangely empty shelves. But somehow, today, it seems more sinister. Maybe because Reid now has more of an idea of the work that is actually being done behind this door. You don't need a lot of smart books to cobble together a presentation via copy and paste.

Mr. Wright is sitting behind his desk with his hands on a stack of paper directly in front of him and is looking at Reid expectantly. "Why do you think I asked you to be here?" he asks.

Reid tilts his head so that it's less obvious he's biting his tongue. "To debrief me about the meeting? You didn't give me an assignment, but I suppose I might still need more guidance than some."

Mr. Wright smiles. "Good. You know, I was really impressed with your work." He says it as if he thinks that Reid either isn'taware of or bothered by the fact that he passed off said work as his own. That's weird. If he thinks Reid is stupid, why would he have hired him? None of this makes sense.

"Thank you," he says. Mr. Wright keeps smiling. Reid would like to claw his eyes out.

"So," Mr. Wright continues, "I thought it'd be helpful to base your next assignment on the work you've already done. It should be easier for you."

He leans back in his chair, projecting an air of self-satisfied generosity. "I want you to contact as many parents as you can and convince them to... something. Anything. A photo op, a televised interview, a mediation session with the governor—whatever you can get them to agree to. Even if it's just to yell at him. The key is to get them on camera with him. We need them to stop venting online and start solving this face-to-face, like the adults they're supposed to be. Do you understand?"

Oh yes.Reid understands. He understands that this will be anything but easy.

How exactly is this based on anything he's done?Sure, he's researched some of these people. But researching someone and convincing them to sit down with the governor to do damage control without causing them to go off on another Twitter tirade is something else. It requires an entirely different skill set that he doesn't have.

"I think I do," he says, and then, because he can't help himself, "Isn't that a bit outside of my job description? Is that allowed?"

Mr. Wright raises a well-manicured eyebrow. "Mr. Maxwell, I wouldn't ask you to do it if it wasn't. As an intern, you're always going to be a bit of a girl Friday. It may be unusual for someone so new. But you've proven yourself, and I trust you with this important task. Especially with that Greene woman. You seem to have her sussed out."

Reid isn't sure that he has. But he nods anyway. This is what Marisol told him to do, isn't it? If he's the one talking to all the parents, then he'll be able to prove that he's the one who did that work. If push comes to shove, those people would just need to be asked who they spoke to.

The problem is that this could backfire. Massively. Reid isn't good with people. These parents are already distraught, and he'll have to convince them to do something they may not want to do. That doesn't sound like a good idea.

"What will I tell them we plan to do?" he asks.

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