I followed Vanessa through the packhouse with my hands clasped behind my back, trying to look like I belonged here. Like this was natural. Like I had always been meant to walk these halls as Luna. But I was just a fraud. I didn't belong here. I never did. But I would not wallow in self pity. I could not afford to.
"This wing is where most of the administrative work is handled," Vanessa said, her voice clipped and efficient as always. "Records, finances, scheduling. You are expected to review reports weekly. Nothing should go unchecked."
"Weekly?" I echoed, glancing at the neatly arranged doors. "So no spontaneous days off where I pretend I cannot read?"
Vanessa stopped walking.
Slowly, she turned her head and fixed me with a look so sharp it could have drawn blood.
I pressed my lips together. "Right. No pretending."
We resumed walking, my steps falling slightly out of sync with hers. I adjusted quickly, matching her pace. I refused to look like I was struggling.
