"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!"