Min-ji signed.

I keep thinking about the smile. That is the part I cannot put down.

Across the housekeeping pantry, two weeks ago, Min-ji handed me two borrowed cards with that small contained smile, the kind two people share over a weather opinion or a piece of candy, and she did not owe Im anything. She did not owe the building anything. She was not on anyone's side. That is what I believed. I built a person on the foundation of a single smile and this morning the foundation was gone. She walked in with two HR escorts at 9:14, signed her name on a printed statement at the 21st-floor desk, and walked back out through the lobby flanked by HR. She did not look at me. I know she did not look at me because I was watching for it the whole six minutes. Her hair was in a low bun. Her shoes were the black ones with the rubber sole. She looked like Min-ji. That is the part I cannot fit anywhere. She looked like Min-ji and she sold me and she looked like Min-ji.

Im stood at the elevator bank with the statement already in his hand. He did not come up. He watched from below. I have ranked that. He ranks above Min-ji now because she did the work and he only had to receive the paper. I smiled at a guest at 11:42. I smiled at a guest at 12:15. I went to the staff cafeteria for lunch and ate the soup and did not throw anything.