Today brings us chapter 28 of the Infinite Limits story with another new point of view character, Olsen Sous from Outland Five. This is the seventh chapter of An Almost Tangent, marking the one third finished point in the novel, so after this we’ll be returning to points of view already mentioned in An Almost Tangent.
I hope you’ve enjoyed your read so far. If you’d like to stay up to date on new releases or learn about special deals and future giveaways, please do sign up for my email update list through this link, and don’t forget that you can pick up a full copy of An Almost Tangent through this link. Enjoy.
Olsen sprinted straight home, grasping the pamphlets tight so the wind couldn’t steal them from her. Well, not straight home. Ever since the new buildings and fields had burst into existence she had been having more trouble than usual finding her way anywhere, including home. After turning down a few wrong alleys, and taking some of the same streets three or four times, she finally made it back to the five story walkup which was her apartment.
She rushed in and up the stairs, and when she burst through the door, she called, “Mooooom I’m hoooooome!”
Her mom was in the living room—which the front door opened onto—watching something on TV. “Quiet down, dear,” she said, not looking away from her show. “You don’t have to yell. There’s only one room in the place.”
“Sorry, Mom,” Olsen said. “It’s just—I’m so excited! I have something to tell you.” She sat on the couch next to her mom and smiled.
“What is it dear? Is that internship of yours finally over? Can you move out of your momma’s house once and for all?”
“Uh, well…” Olsen looked down at the pamphlets in her lap, hesitant now to share the news for fear that her mom might not think it was as great of an idea as she did. “Not exactly…”
“Not exactly? Now, girl, you’re getting too old to be living with your mom. Honestly. When I was your age, we were already having children and raising famblies. I don’t know what it is with your generation.”
“Yeah, mom. Well, I was supposed to be getting promoted today, you know, but life has been a little strange since Christmas, hasn’t it?”
“So you didn’t get promoted, then?” Her mom shook her head. “Tsk tsk tsk. Olsen Sous, what am I going to do with you?”
“No, Mom—I… I got fired.”
“Fired! Olsen, what are we supposed to do now? I was barely supporting you as it is. You—I—I can’t keep going on like this if you’ve got nothing to contribute yourself, dear. I don’t know what else to say. I don’t care if the world implodes, there’s no other way about it.”
“No, Mom. But you have to—”
“No buts, Olsen. You find yourself another job by the middle of this week, or you’re out of here. I’m sorry. But that’s the way it has to be. You should have been done with your internship and out of my house a long time ago, as it is. I don’t know why I ever let you laze around here for so long in the meantime.”
“No, Mom, but that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Look.” She stuffed one of the flyers into her mom’s hand. “Read that.”
Her mom held it close to her face, then far away, then close again. “The Human Fambly?” she read out loud, mouthing it to herself as she skimmed over the rest. “What is this? Some science fiction book you’re reading? Robots taking our jobs? Ha! I’d like to see the robot that can sew like I can.” She waved her fingers in Olsen’s face. “You see these? I’ve been training them for years and years, and nothing can match their precision. That’s why I’m so worried about you, dear. You’re well behind on picking up your own skills. How else you gonna make yourself more valuable to your prospective employers?”
“But Mom, I found an employer already. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“You’ve what now? You just said that you were fired, girl.”
“Well I was, but—”
“Then get your story straight. Were you fired, or did you find a new job?”
“Both, Mom. Ugh. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. First I got fired, then I found a new job.”
“Oooh, girl. Now don’t you be lying to your momma, ya hear. Put it to me straight this time. What are you talking about?”
“The flyer, Mom. You just read it. You remember?”
Her mom held the flyer up to her face again, trying to read it, but she was turning red and clearly getting too annoyed to read anything. “Whatever, okay.” She groaned. “The Human Fambly or whatever. I read it and I still don’t know what it means. Now tell me something sane or I’ll kick you out of here with or without a job.”
“Look. Okay.” Olsen took the flyer from her mom who was still trying to find a distance from her face that was optimal for reading. “Forget about the flyer. I was fired, okay. Right at the end of the day. They said they had found someone who would do the job for cheaper.”
“Cheaper than you were already doing it for?” her mom asked, unbelieving. “Ain’t no human alive who could live on less than that. Now I know you’re telling me a lie.”
“No, mom. Just let me finish. That’s what they said to me, okay. No. That’s what they said. So I was walking home, half taking the long way because I didn’t want to tell you I had been fired and half lost because I can’t find anything anywhere these days, even our own house.”
“You never did have any sense of direction,” her mom said, smiling.
“No. And I still don’t. So I was lost, meandering around, looking at all the new old buildings everywhere. Have you noticed them, Mom? All the new buildings everywhere and how they’re in worse condition than any building that used to be here?”
“Now what does this have to do with you getting a job?” her mom asked, raising her eyebrows. “And quick.”
“Well—uh—nothing I guess. It’s just a tangent. I thought it was interesting. Don’t you?”
“You’re not gonna think it’s interesting when you’re out there on the streets wondering if you can sneak into one of them old buildings to sleep in.”
“No, well, come on, Mom. Just hear me out, okay. Anyway, where was I? That’s right. So I was walking around lost, right, when I heard this loud voice echoing through the alleys, and I got turned around trying to follow it—almost losing myself again—when I saw a group of people all huddled together in an open field.”
“What are you talking about, dear?”
“I’m almost done, Mom. Just let me finish, okay. But I saw them huddled together, using each other for warmth, and they were all looking at this old, hunchbacked, white-haired woman with a wrinkly, dark face—darker than yours even, almost impossibly dark—and it was her voice echoing around me. It seemed impossible that she could talk so loudly, but as I stared and listened with everyone else, I knew it was her speaking.
“Then another woman, who looked almost exactly like the one who was talking but with a big black afro instead of the scraggly white hair, pulled me on the arm and started asking me questions and writing my answers on her clipboard, and before I knew it, I was telling her that I had been fired.”
“What kind of questions?” her mom asked suspiciously.
“I don’t know,” Olsen said shrugging. Why was her mom so interested in this part and not the rest? The rest seemed stranger to her. “My name and address and all that. It doesn’t matter. What matters is—”
“Did you give her our address?” her mom asked, crossing her arms.
“What? I…” Olsen rubbed her face. None of this seemed to be getting through to her mom. “No. Yes. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. What matters is—”
“Of course it matters, girl,” her mom said. “Give your address to someone with a clipboard, and the next thing you know, they’re knocking on your door. Now I don’t want to have to deal with that in my home, child.”
“Well, they won’t. Okay.” Olsen sighed. “I’ll make sure they won’t. That’s who I got a job with. So I can tell them not to when I go to work tomorrow.”
“With the clipboard lady?” Her mom looked horrified. “You didn’t. Not my daughter. No, no, no. Not if I have anything to say about it. Not while you’re under my roof. No one who lives here is carrying a clipboard around, asking people for their names and addresses to serve who knows what purposes. No, ma’am. Not in my fambly. No way, no how.”
“No, Momma. I’m not gonna be holding a clipboard, okay. I’m gonna be a chef.” Olsen smiled, proud to have told someone finally. “A real chef, too. Not a machine operator. And they’re gonna—”
“A chef? Ha! But you can’t cook, girl. You can’t even keep down a food production internship at your age. How are you supposed to become a chef?”
“Thanks for the confidence, Mom.” Olsen sighed. “Seriously. But they said they’d train me. And you haven’t even heard the best part yet.”
“Train you? Oh, I see. So, what’s that, huh? Four weeks without pay? How am I supposed to support you while you go off vacationing for a month?”
“It wouldn’t be without pay, Mom.” At least Olsen hoped it wouldn’t be. She had forgotten to ask if they paid for training in her excitement to land another job so quickly. “I’ll be getting paid more than I ever was at the internship, too. Twice as much.”
Her mom laughed. “Oh. Ho ho! dear. What else? You’ll be helping a humane cause while you’re at it, too? A chef for orphans or something like that. Am I right? Oh ho ho!”
“No mom. I’m serious. I—”
“Sure sure, honey,” her mom said, standing from the couch. “Well, you can have the couch for another week, but if you don’t have a real job and some rent tokens by then, it’s out the door with you. You hear me?”
“No, but I—”
“No buts. Now I’m off to have a drink with the girl gang. I’ll ask around for you. Be good, now, ya hear.”
“I already have a job, mom,” Olsen complained, but her mom was already gone.
Ugh. Weren’t parents supposed to be supportive? Olsen had thought that her mom would be happy to hear that her only daughter had gotten her dream job—with a raise—but no. Her mom only seemed suspicious. She kept accusing her own daughter of lying. What kind of mother would do that?
Although the job really did seem too good to be true. Olsen didn’t really believe the story herself, and she was there when it happened. And maybe she was known to make up a story or two to get out of a crisis. But still, a mother should trust her daughter. Right?
She didn’t want to think about it anymore. She wanted to share the news with someone who would be happy for her. She wanted someone to say, “Good job, Olsen. That’s awesome. I’m so proud of you.” and give her a long hug. And she knew exactly who would give her what she needed.
She jumped off the couch and hurried through the door, down the stairs, and into the world. Normally, she could walk straight to the bar, take a left, and find where she was going by memory, but ever since the Christmas incident she couldn’t find anything. She started one way down the street then realized it was the wrong one and went the other. She could have taken an elevator, sure, but then she would probably end up more lost than she already was. At least by walking, if she got too far off course, she could just retrace her steps to find her way back home.
As she walked, she studied the buildings around her. It was interesting that the new ones were older than the old ones, no matter what her mom said. And that fact had to be some clue as to why they all showed up out of nowhere, all of a sudden, and in such a loud hurry. It wasn’t just the buildings that were different, either. It was the people who had come in them, too. There were a lot of new faces in the neighborhood, and they were all dirty and clothed with rags.
She looked up and didn’t recognize where she was. She spun around a few times, looking at a field, a few older buildings, and a few new, when she realized that the one she was standing in front of was the one she was looking for. She shook her head and laughed at herself then pressed the button on the intercom next to the label “Sonya Barista”. After a moment’s pause, a tinny voice came over the intercom. “Hello?” it said. “Sonya speaking.”
“Sonya, it’s me,” Olsen said. “Olsen,” she added for good measure.
“Yeah, I know,” Sonya said. “I’ll be down in a second.” The link cut out with a pop.
Olsen checked herself in her reflection on the door window and was still trying to fix that one little bit of hair which always fell exactly wrong when the door opened. She jumped and tried to pretend like she wasn’t fixing herself up, saying, “Uh… hey.”
Sonya laughed, closing the door behind her. “Hey, freak,” she said. “What’s up?”
“Oh, well…” Olsen rubbed her arm. “I have news.”
“Good news or bad news?”
“Well—uh—kinda both I guess.”
“No no no. Good. Definitely good. Well it’s just that… I mean—”
“Wait,” Sonya stopped her. “Do you want to go sit in that field to talk?” She pointed across the street. “Ever since it popped up on Christmas I can’t stay out of it. I always wanted a yard.”
“I, uh—” Olsen tried to answer, but Sonya pulled her to the field anyway and they sat in an already worn down patch of grass.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Sonya said. “Look at all the vines growing on these trees. Look at how they share their resources and work together. The vine guiding the tree to grow where the best nutrients are, and the tree providing a portion of those nutrients in return for the favor. Isn’t nature just amazing with the emergent cooperation it creates? I’m so glad I finally have a yard so I can experience it firsthand.”
“Oh, yes, well…” Olsen didn’t find grade school science as interesting as Sonya did, but she didn’t want to say that so she just said, “It’s amazing really.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you agree.” Sonya smiled. “You know, everything has changed since Christmas. It’s as if we live in a whole new world entirely. Do you know what I mean?”
Olsen nodded. She knew all too well what Sonya meant with how much more often she had gotten herself lost since Christmas, not to mention getting fired from her internship instead of promoted into a new career.
“Take all these new people for instance,” Sonya said. “Have you talked to any of them?”
Olsen shook her head. She had been trying to stay as far away from them as possible. She was fascinated by their appearance, of course, just like she was fascinated by the appearance of all the new buildings, but she hadn’t gone up and knocked on any doors, and she certainly wasn’t about to go striking up any conversations with these dirty new strangers.
“Yeah, well,” Sonya said. “I have. I’ve talked to a lot of them, actually. Any free moment I have I go out and search for more of them to talk to. In fact, that’s exactly what I was on my way to do when you came ringing.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Olsen blushed and hoped Sonya couldn’t see her embarrassment in the dark.
“Oh, no no. Don’t apologize.” Sonya shook her head. “I’m glad you came. I’ve been wanting to hear what you thought about all of this, but I’ve been so wrapped up in trying to figure it out for myself that I haven’t had time to ask. You do understand, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah.” Olsen laughed. “I don’t even know what I think about it myself, yet. Though, there are some things…”
“What?” Sonya smiled, leaning in closer. “Tell me.”
“Well, like, have you noticed how all the new buildings—or the buildings that weren’t here before—well, they all look older than anything that was here already. You know what I mean?”
“Exactly!” Sonya clapped her hands together. “Oh my God. I thought I was going crazy. No one at work noticed it, and they all looked at me like I was mental when I told them.”
“Ugh. Really? My mom was the same way. She thought I was being ridiculous.”
“Why is it so hard for people to see what’s right in front of their faces? You know, that’s why I love talking to you, Olsen. You make me feel like I’m not the only one who sees the world this way.”
Olsen blushed again. “You, too,” she said, then she thought that might not be an appropriate use of the phrase and blushed some more.
“You know what else, though,” Sonya said. “I’ve talked to them, like I said, and I mean a lot of them, and you would not believe some of the things they say.”
“Try me,” Olsen said, almost too fast. She was eager to show Sonya that she could believe her, that way maybe Sonya would be more likely to believe Olsen’s own unbelievable experience.
“Well, for one,” Sonya said, “none of them have jobs.”
Olsen chuckled. “What? How do they live?”
“Well, they have jobs,” Sonya said. She paused to think about it, obviously having a hard time translating her thoughts into words. “But they’re not like our jobs, you know. They get paid in food and housing instead of tokens. Does that make sense?”
“So instead of choosing what they want to buy, their bosses choose for them?”
“Well, no. Not exactly. They don’t even have tokens at all. They don’t use them. Not from anything that I’ve been told anyway. Not one of them has even really known what tokens are when I asked, so I don’t think they can be said to buy anything at all.”
“Tokens?” Olsen laughed. She had trouble believing that anyone over the age of three wouldn’t know what tokens were.
“Yeah,” Sonya said. “They’ve never heard of them.”
“Then how do they buy things? How do they live?”
“Like I said, they work for them. They do a job, then their boss gives them food and housing. They don’t really buy anything. They don’t even know the word. They trade ownership. That’s all.”
“But where do their bosses get everything from?” Olsen asked, shaking her head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“I know. I don’t understand it, either. But that’s what they tell me. You don’t think they’re all lying, do you? I must have talked to more than a hundred.”
Olsen shook her head. “Well, no…”
“They can’t all be lying,” Sonya said. “It’s like they’re from an entirely different world or something. Really, Olsen. I mean, tokens. You learn about tokens your first lesson of grade school. How could you live to be an adult and not know what tokens are?”
Olsen laughed. “That is pretty stupid,” she said.
“No, Olsen!” Sonya huffed and took a few deep breaths. “God, no. It’s not stupidity. It’s ignorance. The only way for them to have never learned about tokens is if they’ve never had any experiences with them. But that’s impossible in our world, right?”
“In our world?” Olsen raised an eyebrow. Sonya was going a little more off the deep end than usual. She normally had some interesting theories about how the world worked, but adding new worlds was going a bit far.
“Yes, our world,” Sonya said. “Just bear with me here, okay. So you agree that things are a little different since Christmas. I mean, you can’t deny that. Can you?”
Olsen thought again about all the new old buildings that had popped up out of nowhere on Christmas night, causing the sonic boom that woke the world. “No,” she said. “No one can deny that.”
“Okay,” Sonya said. “So in the world that existed before Christmas, in our world, it would be impossible to grow to adulthood without ever seeing a token, right?”
“Well, yeah.” Olsen shrugged. “That’s what I’m saying. You’d have to be stupid.”
“But I’m saying they’re not stupid. I talked to them. They’re no more or less intelligent than you, me, or anyone else.”
“Then why do they not know about tokens?”
“Because,” Sonya said with a sigh. “It’s like I’ve been saying. They must have never experienced them. They must be from another world where tokens don’t exist. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
“I’m not convinced,” Olsen said, shaking her head. It was strange that they had never heard of tokens, but people from another world? That was insane, not possible.
“Well where do you think all these new people came from, then?” Sonya asked. “And all the old buildings?”
“Oh, well—uh—I think…” Olsen still had no idea. They could have come from anywhere.
“And why are the newly appeared buildings in such disrepair? Why are the people who live in them so hungry and dirty?”
“Oh, well—uh—I don’t know—”
“You haven’t even talked to them, Olsen. Maybe if you did, you would understand.”
“I’m still not sure I understand the words that are coming out of your mouth,” Olsen said. “Are you sure that’s the order you meant to put them in?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Sonya sighed. “Look. We come from one world where tokens are used daily. They come from another world where some sort of barter system is used. The buildings are older because their world has less. That’s why the people are poorer, too. Ever since Christmas, the two worlds have been merged, and now we’re in this hybrid third world. Do you follow me yet?” She looked at Olsen expectantly.
“I—uh—okay,” Olsen said. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying that the sonic boom was the sound of the two worlds merging or whatever.”
“Yes, exactly!” Sonya clapped her hands and smiled. “So do you believe me?”
That was probably why Olsen had been fired. Some poor sap with nothing from the new old world would be more than happy to steal her job for a quarter of the pay because it would still be more than they had ever been paid, none of them had ever even seen tokens in their entire lives. “That would explain a lot,” Olsen said, nodding. “It still seems a little too out there, though.”
“Oh. Well…” Sonya shook her head. “Don’t think I don’t find it strange myself. Who wouldn’t? But what other answer is there that correlates with the evidence?”
Olsen thought about it for a second, tapping her chin. “Time travel,” she said with a chuckle. “That’s why the buildings are old and the people have never heard of tokens. They’re from the past.” She smiled.
“Yeah, like time travel’s believable.”
“But merging worlds is?” Olsen raised an eyebrow.
“Not really. But it fits the evidence better. The buildings wouldn’t age if they had come forward through time, or else the people would have, too. And if they had come from the future, where the buildings would be older, the people living in them would most likely know about tokens. And besides all that, I don’t think time travel would explain how they all witnessed the same sonic boom that we did on the same Christmas night, either. I’m not sure what would explain that.”
“But again, I didn’t know that they did experience the sonic boom,” Olsen said. “And I don’t really think it’s time travel, either. I just can’t believe that there have been two separate worlds out there for all this time and none of us have noticed until they happened to merge for some unexplained reason.”
“Maybe if you talked to one of them,” Sonya said.
“What? No. I don’t think—”
“C’mon.” She stood and pulled Olsen up, dragging her out to the street and up to the first person they came across. She was an older, dark-faced, hunchbacked lady with a big afro and dirty clothes who Olsen thought she recognized but couldn’t quite place—until she saw the clipboard and the pamphlet the woman was holding out to Sonya.
“Hello,” Sonya said, taking the pamphlet. “How are you?”
“Oh, fine, fine, child,” the old woman said. “It’s a wonderful time to be alive, isn’t it?”
“Uh, yes it is,” Sonya said. “I was just talking to my friend here about it.”
Olsen waved and hoped the woman didn’t recognized her.
“Yes, child,” the woman said. “I’ve been out here telling all of my Family the good news. The worlds have changed, you know. The worlds have changed! Hallelujah.” She smiled wide.
Sonya looked to Olsen, excited, then back to the woman. “That’s a funny way to say it,” she said. “The worlds. What do you mean?”
“Oh, sweet child, you haven’t heard the good news then?”
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” Sonya said.
“The worlds, child,” the woman said. “The worlds! You heard the sonic boom on Christmas, didn’t you?”
“I, well, of course,” Sonya said.
“That, child, was the heralding of a new and beautiful age for humankind. Outlands Five and Six have finally been reunited, toppling the first barrier between the Human Family and unity.”
“Outlands Five and Six?” Sonya said. “What do you mean?”
“Your world and mine, child. Your world and mine! It’s all in the pamphlet, sister. Give it a read and you’ll find the knowledge you seek.”
Sonya opened the pamphlet and started to skim it.
“It’s a beautiful time,” the woman went on. “Soon we’ll be able to shed humanity of the parasitic robot infection and set every breathing, bleeding human being to the work which is rightly theirs.”
“Oh, uh…” Sonya’s face went red. “Well, thank you for talking to us,” she said, pulling Olsen back toward the soft spot in the field where they were talking before.
“Wait,” the woman called after them. “Can I get your name and address?”
Sonya didn’t stop to listen. She dragged Olsen back to the field and plopped down in the grass.
“What was that about?” Olsen asked.
“Here. Read it.” Sonya shoved the flyer into Olsen’s hand.
Olsen looked at it. It was the same flyer she had handed her mother before she came to see Sonya. That was the woman with her clipboard who had helped Olsen get her new chef job.
“Still,” Sonya said. “Did you hear that? She said there were two worlds, too. Outlands Five and Six or something like that. Not that her word is worth much.”
“Why isn’t her word worth much?” Olsen asked, getting all the more nervous about revealing her new job.
“Well, did you read the pamphlet?” Sonya asked. “She’s a racist.”
“A racist?” Olsen chuckled. “What? She wasn’t white.”
“Well she doesn’t have to be,” Sonya said. “You heard her. Robotic parasites. That’s a racial slur. I can’t even believe I repeated it.”
“Woah there, now.” Olsen waved her hands. “Slow down. I mean, sure. Parasite is going a little far, I agree with that, but there are robots doing our jobs, aren’t there?”
“Androids,” Sonya huffed. Her face went deeper red. “There are androids who have their own jobs, but they’re not robots, and they are certainly not parasites.”
“I just don’t think it’s that bad,” Olsen said. “I mean, I was just fired, and I—”
“You don’t see how it’s—What?”
“Oh. Yeah… Sorry.” Olsen looked at the grass. “I meant to tell you.”
“Oh no,” Sonya said, patting Olsen’s back. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, actually.” Olsen nodded, trying to reassure Sonya.
“How’d your mom take it?”
“Well, that’s the thing…” Olsen had been so excited to tell Sonya about her new job before, but now she didn’t know what to expect. Olsen didn’t know they were racists when she took the job. She still wasn’t sure they were. One woman using one slur didn’t mean the entire organization was racist, did it? And even if Olsen had known, how could she turn down the opportunity to train as a real chef with twice the pay of her last internship? She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. So she had to tell Sonya about her new job or lie to her about it. “Now, you’re not going to believe this,” Olsen said.
“After getting you to admit that two worlds merging might be a possibility, whatever you have to say has got to be nothing to believe in comparison.” Sonya smiled.
“Yeah, well…” Olsen rubbed her neck. It was now or never. “I kind of got a job with the racists.”
“You what?” Sonya wasn’t smiling anymore.
“I didn’t know they were racists, okay.”
“Of course. You wouldn’t.” Sonya crossed her arms.
“And I’m still not sure they are.”
“They are. I can assure you of that.”
“But they’re going to teach me to be a chef, Sonya. A real chef, not just a machine operator.”
“I’m sure they will.”
Olsen hesitated. Was “machine” a racial slur? “But I had just gotten fired, and I knew my mom was going to kick me out—she still is—and I saw this big group of people, and one said they would pay me to be a chef even though I didn’t know anything about cooking, so I had to say yes. I had to. What else could I have done?”
“Yeah, well, I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” Sonya said.
“Even if it isn’t a good idea, it’s the only choice I have. Unless you know of a nice job you could hook me up with, but I doubt that’s true in this brave new world.”
“So I have no choice,” Olsen interrupted her. “My mom said she wouldn’t put up with me any longer. I need my own place beside that. I can’t keep sleeping on a couch, Sonya. So even if they are racists, it doesn’t matter. That doesn’t mean I have to be a racist. And if I can get the tokens I need to live, then what do I care? It’s business, not personal.”
“Everything’s personal,” Sonya said, shaking her head. “It’s personal for the androids who have to put up with it every day. I work with an android, you know. She’s just as human as anyone else who works there—probably more so than most of them. And you’re not just working for racists, Olsen. You’re working for a racist organization. Did you even read the pamphlet?”
“I, yeah, well…” She tried to read it again but she couldn’t concentrate.
Sonya stood up fast. “Well, I don’t think you should do it. I know you need a job, and I’ll do anything I can to help you find one, but I don’t think this is the answer.”
“No. That’s what I think and you’re not changing my mind. You have to decide for yourself now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I—but—” Olsen started, but Sonya was already gone.
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