It was a miracle she that hadn’t been kicked out yet.
She has been sitting in the lobby for the past half hour. A guard should have come up to her and told her to leave by now. The reason why that hasn’t happened yet is beyond her, though she might have surmised that it could be due to the rushed, chaotic order that filled the lobby. People strutting by with heads held high. They were sharply dressed, dignitaries of the government or the military no doubt, all carrying the same confidence that spoke of their positions. She’s seen many people like them come and go. Some of those dignitaries sat in the seats beside her, and some of them sat in seats far away. Some were checking over files, and some were chatting in hushed, friendly tones with each other. But in the end, it was all the same. They always left her alone without any words exchanged between them.
Though, she supposed that it could be a metaphor for her life. Being ignored and glossed over like a speck of dust was the sole reason for her entire existence. There would be no “father” or “mother” to encourage her, no “friends” to spend time with. It was just her in this life. She could only rely on herself to survive, and she will live by that creed until the day she dies.
Stop thinking like that. Enough of those depressing thoughts, this is the reason why she hated waiting. Waiting meant nothing to do. Waiting meant reflection. Waiting meant regretting, and a life full of regrets is the last thing she wanted to live with. This would be her only opportunity to make amends.
She couldn’t let this chance pass her by. She wouldn’t.
She rifled through the contents of her file one last time. Nodding in affirmation that everything was in order, she stood up from her seat. No more waiting. Not this time. She was going to be the decisive one and take action. She wouldn’t hide in the shadows anymore, and for everyone that will stand in her path . . .
She will bring them hell.
The receptionist put her phone call on hold as she approached the desk. The neatly-dressed woman gave her a pretty smile and turned her full attention to her client. With a smooth, chipper tone, the receptionist asked, “May I help you miss?”
“Yes,” Valerie Sleivrich placed her file on the counter between them, wasting no time for formalities.
“I want to join Argus.”
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