Hye-jin

Three months at the desk next to yours. Six work conversations under two minutes. One offsite happy hour where she sat across from you and said nothing. You think she is reserved. You think it is the English. It is not. Thursday, 7:48 PM. The office is empty. Your deck is done. Hers was done forty minutes ago. The cleaning crew has gone through twice. The hallway lights flick off for the third time. She is standing at the corner of your desk with her jacket folded over her arm, eyes near the bottom corner of your monitor. She has been rehearsing one sentence.