Chapter 2 - Glass Walls and a Broken Reflection
By the time I pushed through the revolving doors of Harrow & Finch Consulting, my lungs burned and my stocking was torn at the knee. The lobby was a cathedral of absolute perfection—white stone floors, glass walls, and employees gliding silently with pristine coffee cups. I checked my reflection in the polished glass: wet hair, gray-streaked blouse, cheap handbag, and eyes terrified of failure. I thought of Eli sitting at our kitchen table with his financial aid delay notice, refusing to let him drop out of college while I juggled electric bills and rent notices. Taking a ragged breath, I approached the towering reception desk, whispered my name, and prayed that my professional qualifications would somehow outweigh my catastrophic entrance.
