ise" headquarters felt

old office, a small, windowless ro

wed me, like r

ly been busy. O

lectronically two weeks prior, had

ad likely clicked "approve" on the email notification without a secon

ning those quarterly

g at something Leo had texted he

here to sign, M

ts, the divorce agreement nestled innocuously between a v

en looked at

te disinterest in anything I handled, unless it d

wooden rolling pin my grandfather gave me, a framed photo of my

ounting gave me

rketing smi

seen, probably consoling Sar

ught a bitter t

nged. A tex

his is insane. You

ed by

inks this is his fault. Y

as always, wer

n't r

l. A few signatures, a stamp, and seven years of s

"The Daily Rise," I had ensured a fair separation of my i

I'd consulted months ago, when the "New Traditions" hash