Leah
She hadn’t planned to pull the trigger tonight. Wendy had earned it a hundred times over. The gaslighting. The humiliation. The quiet, corrosive cruelty.
But Leah told herself to wait. Be smart. Be patient. Gather more.
Until yesterday. It happened in the women’s restroom. Wendy had stepped out of the stall, startled to find Leah at the mirror, fixing her lipstick. A brief, strained nod. Both pretended not to notice the sour stench Wendy left in her wake.
The unmistakable flush on Wendy’s face had only confirmed it. Leah couldn’t blame her for being embarrassed. After the bomb she must’ve dropped in there? Anyone would be. At the time, Leah hadn’t thought much of it. Just a small, private win. Yes, Wendy, your shit also stinks.
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Then Dhonielle Pinsky walked in, one of the agency’s star agents. Wendy, breezing past with a saccharine smile, wasted no time.
“Ugh, it reeks in here. Sorry, Dhonielle. I told Leah not to order Chinese for lunch, but she just can’t resist that $6.99 garlic chicken and pork combo. Gives Panda Express a whole new meaning, right, Leah?”
That was it. Not Wendy’s cruelest dig. But it cut. Maybe because of how small it was. How deliberate.
A woman like that doesn’t deserve mercy. Leah’s fingers hover above the trackpad. For a moment, she hesitates. Then—
Click.
Sent. She leans back, smiling.
The match is struck. All that’s left now is to watch the fire catch.