The Coworker

by Freida McFadden

As strange as Dawn’s schedule is, it’s even stranger that today she isn’t following it. I can’t help but think that Dawn’s absence must signify something ominous. After all, Dawn is never late. Never.

Kim Healey is my best friend at work, which sadly means that she’s my best friend in general since work has increasingly become my entire life.

And what’s with her obsession with turtles? Like, who is that into turtles?”

More silence. Just when I’m about to hang up, two words are spoken in a tortured female voice that send an icy chill down my spine: “Help me.” And then the line goes dead.

Seth Hoffman has been the manager of the Dorchester branch of Vixed since before I started working here.

I notice the wedding band he always wears on his left fourth finger is gone. Recently gone—there’s a visible tan line. My eyes stray to the photograph he always keeps on his desk of him and his wife Melinda, but that’s gone too.

I could tell from the way Seth was looking at her that he likes her a lot too. She must be excellent at her job.

Whatever else you can fake, it’s hard to fake being a genuinely kind person. It’s also exceedingly rare.

I used to get calls like that all the time, sometimes with just silence, but sometimes with a string of threats on the other line. But I haven’t gotten a call like that since… well, it’s been several months. I doubt it’s that same person—they have no reason to hate me anymore.