After school, I quickly drop Ruby off at her house and rush home to get ready for another evening at the Johnson & Johnson law firm. 

My parents are both home today and my dad has a warm plate of food ready for me by the time I walk into the kitchen. I chose to wear a simple black pantsuit with a crisp white button up. I matched it with a pair of black pumps. 

If I have to play the role of a hardworking, honest intern, I might as well dress for it.  

"What kind of cases do they have you working on over there?" My dad asks after I thank him for the food. 

I hesitate to answer and shovel in a forkful of rice into my mouth as a way to stall.

Why had I not anticipated that this would come up? 

Telling them the truth would probably lead to a lecture of some sort, especially if it gets back to my mom. But, lying to them is so difficult. They can usually see right through me. 

"Well, honestly I'm just doing a lot of paperwork and filing for different cases. So it includes things from contracts to criminal defense. It's a big firm, so they are working on tons of different cases at one time." I say, finally. It's the truth. I just don't want to worry them. 

"Okay. That's good. I saw something on the news about a high profile criminal being defended by your firm. What do you know about that?" He asks, leaning against the counter across from me. 

"Yeah, I heard something about that, too. But, unfortunately, I am legally not allowed to share what I know about that." I say as nonchalantly as I can. I focus my gaze on my plate to avoid looking my dad in his eyes. 

"Okay, Ms. Lawyer. Don't tell your father." He chuckles. 

"Sorry." I reply, letting out a nervous laugh. 

I quickly finish what is left on my plate. "Thank you again, dad. I have to go now, before I'm late."

"Okay, Roxie. I'll see you later." He says, taking my plate from me and giving me a hug. 

"Later." I respond, gathering my belongings before leaving to get into my car. 

---------------------------

Exactly 24 minutes later, I am walking into the infamous elevator at the firm. I ride it up with the sound of my heart beating in my ears. I try to take subtle deep breathes as I step off to prepare myself for the shift that awaits me. 

"Good afternoon, Roxanne." Debbie greets me. 

"Good afternoon, Debbie." I respond, plastering a fake smile onto my face. 

"I forgot to ask you this last time, but is everything okay with your mother?" She asks, concern clear on her face. 

My mother? 

I am confused for a moment before I remember my embarrassing exit on Thursday. 

"She's great, now. Thank you for asking." I say, feeling a pang of guilt for lying about my mother's health. 

"That's wonderful news." Debbie smiles. "I believe Zaria is in her office waiting for you with your tasks for today." 

I thank her and walk to the office I share with Zaria.

Sure enough, she is already sitting there with a stack of file folders on her desk. 

I walk in without a word. 

"Oh. You actually made it in, today." She says. 

"Of course, I couldn't miss a second of quality time with my least favorite spoiled brat." I respond with a fake smile. 

She rolls her eyes at me instead of responding. 

I turn around to hang up my coat. I am startled by a loud slam on my desk. 

I turn back around to find that she has moved about three quarters of the huge stack on her desk over to mine. 

"Wha-" I start before Zaria rudely cuts in. 

"Get to work." She sneers before walking back over to her desk.

I decide to pick my battles and begin to sort the folders into smaller, more manageable piles. 

For the next hour and a half, I work silently to sort and file the documents. I do my best to compartmentalize all the criminal charges I skim through and focus on preparing the documents for Mr. Johnson. 

As I finish each folder, I place them into a basket besides my desk. 

Zaria finished her few folders about an hour ago and has been playing around on her phone with her feet up ever since. 

It's almost amusing how arrogant she is for someone who does so little. 

I notice her glance up at me as I slip my second to last folder into the basket. She finally takes her feet off of her desk and sits up straight. 

I ignore her weird behavior and continue to work on the last folder. 

About ten minutes later, I slide the organized documents into the file folder they were originally in and close it. Before I can even pick up the folder to place it into the basket, Zaria is standing beside me. 

She reaches down and picks up the basket. "I'll take these to my father for you. Thanks." 

I remember what she did the first time she brought my work to her father. I immediately stand up and place the final folder on top of the others. 

"No worries. I got it." I respond, reaching for the basket. 

She yanks it away from me and takes a few steps back. 

"Girl, what is wrong with you?" I ask, in utter disbelief. "Just let me bring over my hours of hard work." I add, approaching her again. 

She instinctively jumps back. 

I try not to let a smile form on my face as I notice the extension cord that is extended just a few inches behind her ankles. 

I make one final move toward her, reaching my hands out to grab the basket. 

Just as expected, she jumps back again and trips on the cord. Her grip loosens on the basket as she crashes down onto the floor. 

"Thanks, love." I laugh, firmly grasping the basket and strutting out of the office. 

I carry the heavy load all the way to Mr. Johnson's office. I don't hear any voices from outside of the door, so I knock twice before entering. Debbie said she would give him a heads up as I walked by her desk, anyway. 

"Roxanne! Thank you for bringing these over." Mr. Johnson exclaims, meeting me at the door to take the basket out of my hands. 

He places the basket on one of the tables and begins to unpack it. 

"Today was a really heavy filing day. Good thing you and Zaria were able to split this work up." He comments. 

No wonder she was fighting so hard to be the one to bring this basket over. 

"I actually worked on that entire basket on my own. Zaria placed them on my desk when I arrived earlier." I say, feeling both nervous and annoyed. I don't know what I'm getting myself into trying to reveal how lazy Zaria has been, but I also refuse to let her take advantage of me. 

"Really?" He asks, stopping to look directly at me. 

"Yes, sir." I reply. 

"What has Zaria been doing then?" He asks, crossing his arms.

I hesitate for a moment, but decide to just tell him. 

"She really sat on her phone for over an hour?" He asks, obviously shocked and disappointed. 

I nod. 

"Wow." He says, simply. 

A single knock sounds on the door and the subject herself struts into the office. 

Mr. Johnson looks over at Zaria with a look of clear disappointment on his face. 

I can tell that she did not expect to walk into this. She shrinks back slightly. 

"Roxanne, thank you for your work today. You're free to go home." Mr. Johnson says to me. "Zaria, have a seat." He adds, turning his attention back to her. 

I take that as my cue to make a swift exit. 

In the hallway, I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. This shift went by a lot smoother than I expected. Now, all I have to do is grab my stuff and go home. 

I am approaching Debbie's desk when I hear the familiar sound of the elevator ding. I unconsciously cross my fingers, hoping to make it out of the firm without seeing him.

Luckily for me, it's Mrs. Johnson that appears. She approaches Debbie's desk and begins quietly discussing something with her. 

Unluckily for me, Rodney Rashford appears a second after her. 

I freeze, scanning the hall for an escape route. 

Unfortunately, there is no where to go but back to Mr. Johnson's office. 

I feel Rodney's heavy gaze on me. I am forced to look forward to find him walking towards me. 

I feel as though the hallway is narrowing in on me with every step he takes. 

He stops one step away from me. I can tell from his sick smirk that he is enjoying the discomfort and fear that radiates off of me in his presence. 

"You're brave to show your face here after last time." He says. "I'm going to assume that you've convinced my worthless excuse for a son to drop his testimony against me." 

I swallow, trying to get my throat to open back up. 

"He won't speak to me anymore. He was really mad when I asked. He stormed out and hasn't spoken to me since." I say, following Hakeem's advice. 

He stares at me in silence, clearly analyzing my response. 

"Ask again. I won't take no for an answer." He says, coldly. 

I don't get a chance to make up an excuse because he immediately walks away. Mrs. Johnson follows him and they walk in the direction that I just came from. 

I feel a sense of frustration knowing that he didn't drop it, but I take the chance to go gather my belongings and leave.