BAM!
Piles of files slammed onto Mahya's desk. The girl's eyes widened, her mouth trembling as she struggled to speak. "Wha—what are you doing, Sir?" she asked after taking a deep breath.
"ARE YOU CRAZY?!" her boss exclaimed, restraining his rising anger.
"I don't understand what you mean. Explain, what's happening here?" Mahya asked, rising from her seat. Even the coffee on the table almost spilled, threatening to ruin all the scattered work analyses on the desk. Her cramped space became noisy with her boss's shouts, as if he wanted to forcefully dismantle her room.
"You! How dare you investigate Seno Adhijaya? I'm returning your files!" he yelled persistently.
"Oh! So, this is about my investigation proposal? What's the problem, Sir? I don't feel like I've done anything wrong!" Mahya retorted, equally fierce. In journalistic work, structural positions were just diagrams on boards, not unresisting zones in the field.
Mahya wasn't afraid of being fired.
As long as she knew why her work
