The air conditioner hummed overhead, blowing out a steady stream of cold air.

Madison's tears started falling instantly. She looked utterly wounded.

"Isla, how could you do this to me? I've been with you ever since I joined the company. You're the closest person to me here—I've always thought of you as my big sister."

Listening to her syrupy, phony voice made my stomach turn.

"Big sister? If I remember correctly, you've been with this company for all of two weeks. Two weeks of knowing each other, and that's your excuse to crash at my place for free?"

Madison blinked her innocent little eyes, but her mouth kept running.

"I did the math, okay? Your place doesn't cost you any rent—just a little bit for utilities. I'll give you 2 bucks a day. I eat lunch at the office, so I'd use less than one dollars' worth of water and electricity a day. You'd actually come out ahead."

Listening to her lay it out so matter-of-factly, I leaned back in my chair.

"But I don't want your money. You can take that 2 bucks and find yourself a place that includes room and board."

Madison's face went pale. She staggered and nearly fell over. A few coworkers rushed over to steady her.

I thought she'd finally give up. Instead, she just changed tactics.

…

By lunchtime, the break room was buzzing with gossip about me.

"That's way too harsh. Madison just got dumped and needs a place to stay—what's the big deal? It's not like she wasn't offering to pay. Where's the compassion?"

"Isla's probably been single so long she's lost her mind. No way she understands what heartbreak feels like."

I walked past them calmly, coffee cup in hand. They averted their eyes for a second, then went right back to trash-talking.

I knew exactly who was behind it, but there was no point in explaining. The knife wasn't in their backs, so they didn't feel the pain.

No sooner had I gotten back to my desk than someone came running over to tell me the department manager wanted to see me. She had that nosy, I-can't-wait-to-watch look on her face.

Madison was sitting in the manager, Mr. Gabelman's office, red-eyed. Keeping her company was Hannah Wagner, another intern who'd started at the same time as her, dabbing at Madison's tears nonstop. When I walked in, Hannah shot me a vicious glare.

Madison, putting on a show of defending me while actually fanning the flames, spoke up, "Mr. Gabelman, this isn't Isla's fault. It's just that my coworkers saw how desperate I am—no place to go—and they thought since Isla has that empty apartment..."

She trailed off, but her eyes kept flicking toward me.

Mr. Gabelman, determined to appear fair and impartial, pointed at me. "You—explain yourself."

I stood there, my voice flat. "Madison wants to stay at my place. I said no. She claims my apartment doesn't cost rent, and 2 bucks a day would more than cover food and utilities. I'm her work mentor—nothing more. I have no obligation to take care of her personal life."

Mr. Gabelman's face darkened immediately.

"Madison is a new hire. She's one of our future key talents. What's the harm in cutting her some slack? You're not even married—wouldn't having someone around be good for you?"

I almost laughed at how blatantly one-sided he was. Not being married wasn't a crime—and it sure wasn't an invitation for someone to barge into my life.

I pulled out my phone, pulled up a map of the area, and showed it to Mr. Gabelman.

"Since she's such a key talent, we definitely shouldn't slack off on her. My place is a bit of a commute from the office. How about this—you, Mr. Gabelman, can rent her a place nearby. It'd make her commute easier and really show off your generosity and dedication to nurturing new talent."

Mr. Gabelman froze. His face turned a deep, mottled red. He pointed a finger at me, his expression dripping with disappointment.

"Isla, as an employee of this company, maintaining team unity is a basic rule you're expected to follow."

"This is exactly the kind of thing that makes it hard for me to promote you. Even if I wanted to, people would talk," Mr. Gabelman said sternly.

My expression didn't waver. I stayed completely calm.

I shot back, "So 'maintaining team unity' means giving up my own home for a coworker to live in? If that's the case, I really can't do it."

Mr. Gabelman's face darkened.

"Can't you just cut her some slack? Do you have to blow this whole thing up? She has a higher degree than you—she might even get promoted before you do. Then what? When her team won't take you, and you're at your age, where are you going to go?"

Before I could even respond, he called Madison back into the office.

Madison's eyes were red, and she looked up at Mr. Gabelman with this wide-eyed, doe-like expression.

Mr. Gabelman's tone softened. "Madison, don't worry about the housing situation. Isla and I already talked it over. You can move into her place for now—stay as long as you need."

My head shot up. I stared at Mr. Gabelman in disbelief.

"Exactly when did we talk this over?"

Hannah immediately jumped in with her snide remark, "So you'd rather leave your place empty than let your own intern stay there?"

Mr. Gabelman glared at me and lowered his voice. "Let me say this one more time—starting today, she's moving in with you. Also, this afternoon, when you're meeting with the client, let Madison sign off on the deal when you're done negotiating. Consider it your way of making it up to her—help her get her probation period cut short."

I nodded and turned to Madison. "You really want to stay? Fine."

All three of them looked satisfied, as if I'd finally come to my senses.

"Then pay me market-rate rent—two hundred a month, first month plus three months' deposit. And Mr. Gabelman can be your guarantor right here and now."

At that, Mr. Gabelman slammed his hand on the desk and shot to his feet.

"Isla, what is wrong with you? Madison is just crashing at your place for a few days, and you want to charge her rent? You're coworkers—how can you even ask that?"

He tugged at his tie and narrowed his eyes at me.

"It doesn't cost you anything to let her stay—why are you so greedy you'd stoop that low? Two hundred a month? Your dump isn't even worth that much. Tell you what—Madison will take you out for a nice meal to say thanks, and that's final."

His phone rang, and he waved me off impatiently.

I walked out of the office, and my coworkers' gossipy eyes immediately locked onto me. Someone couldn't hold back and blurted out, "So you finally agreed?"

I looked back at her. "You know what happens when a cuckoo takes over a sparrow's nest?"

Wasting all that time arguing with them meant I'd definitely have to stay late tonight.

I'd just finished sketching out the first draft of the design when Madison sidled up to my desk.

"Isla, I didn't have time to pack my things when my boyfriend and I split, so I'm gonna borrow some of your clothes to change into. But you'll need to get me new slippers—what if you have athlete's foot and I catch it? Also, I need a spare key. I'm not sticking around to work late with you."

I glanced up at her, then went back to my work.

She plopped herself down on my desk and kept going, "The bed in the guest room I slept in last night is way too hard—I can't sleep on that. When you get home tonight, clear out your master bedroom and make it up for me. And honestly, at your age, you're still using pink stuff? That's kind of... tacky."

The moment she said that, a few of the guys across from me looked up with smirks that made my skin crawl.

When I'd brought her home last night, she wouldn't even take her shoes off and just rolled around on the guest bed. There was a trash can right next to the bed, but she chose to throw up all over the floor instead. The stench was overwhelming—I had to scrub it clean several times.

I forced a smile. "Have you checked the weather forecast today?"

Madison blinked, completely lost.

"What?"

"Just checking—are we living in the same reality? Because in mine, what you're asking for is pure fantasy."

Madison's face twisted. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper only the two of us could hear.

"I'd suggest you play nice if you want to keep your job. You don't know my connection to Mr. Gabelman, do you? He's my brother-in-law. So tell me—who do you think gets hurt if you cross me?"

So that was it. She was Mr. Gabelman's sister-in-law. No wonder she could openly take credit for other people's work and mooch off someone's place. Mr. Gabelman probably kept quiet to avoid any fallout. Didn't expect her to spill it herself so fast.

By the afternoon, Madison was back at my desk. She slapped a menu in front of me.

"Make a full dinner tonight. I want steak—and make sure you trim the fat off."

I picked up the menu and glanced at it. Aside from a couple of salads, everything else was meat-heavy.

I tossed the menu on the floor without a second thought.

"You're heartbroken, not recovering from childbirth."

She stared at me, her face crumpled, and stormed off. Before long, her sobbing echoed from the break room.

"I'm just so devastated. I just got dumped, and Isla is being so cruel to me. I feel like I want to die."

Hannah shot me a venomous glare as she came out of the break room.

"Picking on a newbie—real classy. What goes around comes around."

…

I purposely worked late until eight. When I packed up to leave, I realized my house keys were missing. I searched every drawer and my bag—nothing. I figured I'd call the property manager and a locksmith once I got home.

When I reached my door, I noticed it was cracked open—unlocked. My heart sank. A bad feeling washed over me.

I threw the door open, and my eyes went wide.

My once-pristine leather sofa was buried under piles of clothes. Some had even fallen onto the rug, stomped over with muddy footprints. Toiletries from the bathroom were strewn across the floor, leaking everywhere. The refrigerator door hung wide open, and I spotted chips and snacks scattered all around.

If it weren't for the familiar curtains, I'd have thought I walked into the wrong apartment.

What pushed me over the edge—my Lego sets that I'd displayed on either side of the TV had been knocked to the floor and smashed to pieces.

I took a deep breath and pulled out my phone to call the police.

Madison shuffled out of the master bedroom in my pajamas, looking completely at ease.

"You're back so late? I haven't even had dinner. My stomach's delicate—if I get sick from this, it's on you."

As if she hadn't noticed my expression, Madison grabbed my arm and dragged me to the balcony. In that cramped space sat a cheap, 1.5-meter cot—God knows where she dug up that old thing. The blanket on it was stained with some mysterious liquid.

"One of my friends is coming to see me tomorrow, and I'm letting him stay over. He's a guest, so he needs the guest room. You can just crash out here for the night."

She pointed out the window.

"You're always going on about flowers and the moon, right? The view's great from here—you can enjoy the night scenery."

I stared at her, watching this woman act like she owned the place. I was so floored I didn't even know what to say. Since when did I not even get to sleep in my own bed?

I yanked my arm away.

"If you like it so much, you stay here."

As I turned to leave, she blurted out frantically, "No way—I can't live in a dump like this!"

That was it. I'd had enough.

I slapped her across the face.

"Even you know it's a dump? Get the hell out of my house!"