“I thought it would be different after law school, that I’d find my place, something I really loved,” I continue, trying to explain the restless ache in my chest beating louder, every day. I’ve pushed it down, tried to smother the feeling, but it’s not working anymore.

“Noelle—” Lexi tries to stop me again, but I cut her off.

“Can’t you understand? All the rules and regulations, the dress code, and politics, and the Harpoon yelling at us 24/7. It’s not right for me. Every time I walk through the front doors these days, I think about turning around and walking right out again.”

A voice suddenly comes from behind me, icy cool. “Then why don’t you?”

I freeze.

No!

Lexi is cringing back in her seat. “I tried!” she whispers.

I brace myself and turn around.

Harper is standing there in the doorway, slowly turning a furious shade of raspberry. My heart sinks.

“I… um…” I try to think of something to say, but my mind is blank. I can’t believe he just heard all of that! “I’m sorry, I was just blowing off some steam—”

“Enough!” Harper screams. “I’ve had enough of you and your fucking attitude. I don’t want to work late,” he whines, mocking me, “It’s the weekend, My grandmother’s dead. Well fuck your grandmother!”

I gasp.

“If you want to leave, get the hell out!” Harper yells at me, spittle flying. “Otherwise, you keep your ass in that seat and don’t get up until I have my research, you understand?” He stands over me, jabbing a finger towards me with every word. “Do. You. Understand?”

“I…” I gulp, my heart racing. The whole room is silent, everybody’s watching my humiliating dressing-down.

My skin prickles hot with embarrassment. I feel a kick under the table. Lexi is silently begging me, her eyes wide. I know what I need to do: beg and plead for forgiveness. Pledge my loyalty to the firm and his clients, and work like a dog for the next six months to try and erase this major mistake. Then, maybe then, he’ll deign to have me fetch coffees and Xeroxes before shuttling me off to a different department for the rest of the year.

It’s my only option, the only way to keep my career here alive. But as I open my mouth to start the groveling, I feel that rebellious spark flare to life.

Before I can stop myself, the words come out, loud and clear.

“No.”

I hear gasps around me, but my heart is pounding too loudly in my ears for it to register. I get up from the desk, draw myself up to my full height, and look Harper straight in the eye.

“I quit.”

His eyes flick over me, and his lip curls with derision. “Your fucking funeral,” he snorts. “Clean your desk out. You have five minutes before security throws you out the door.” He gives me a final withering stare before turning and storming away.

My legs go weak; I have to grab onto the chair for support. Oh my God. Did I just do that?

“Noelle!” Lexi wails. “What did you do?”

I gulp. My pulse is racing, and I struggle to think straight. “I have to get my stuff,” I tell her. “Harper is probably shredding everything right now.”

I grab my notebook from the table and hurry down the hallway. People are already staring and whispering as I pass. Gossip spreads like wildfire in a place like this. I take the stairs down a floor, to the tiny cubicle in the corner of the bullpen.

I don’t have much time. The scene in the library was bad enough, but getting hauled out of here by security would be a humiliation I’ll never live down if I want to practice law again.

Because I just got fired. Or quit.

Oh God.

I sweep everything from my desk into a paper carton. They frown on personal effects here, so I only have a couple of framed family photos, and the set of cloth-bound legal books my dad gave me for my last birthday. I don’t let myself imagine what he’ll say when he finds out about this, I can’t think about that now.

“I can’t believe you just did that!” Lexi arrives at my cubicle, wide-eyed with shock—and a touch of awe.

“Me neither.” I go through my drawers and grab a few office supplies.

“Are you sure about this? It’s not too late to take it back!” Lexi looks at me hopefully. “Just go to HR, tell them you had some kind of mental break. Stress, from the Anderson case. They’ll be so scared of a lawsuit, they would totally sweep it under the rug. Remember that partner in litigation?” she adds, brightening. “He had a meltdown in the middle of a settlement conference, threatened to staple the client to the table! They just gave him a slap on the wrist and made him take some anger therapy sessions, and he was back at work the next month.”

“I don’t need anger therapy,” I manage to smile, “and I don’t want to come back. Harper is right, I’m not cut out for this job.”

“But you’re a great lawyer!” Lexi protests.

“No,” I sigh, pausing to look around. “I’m a good one. And only because I’m working overtime just trying to keep up. But I don’t want to fake it anymore. This isn’t what I want.”

“So what do you want?” Lexi demands. “What are you going to do now? You can’t just sit around in your sweatpants all day eating Cheetos and watching Gilmore Girls reruns!”

I hug her, laughing. “Relax, I’m not going to.”