Chapter 12: The First Step

Isabella’s POV

The email came three days after the interview. I was feeding Peter applesauce when I saw it pop up on my phone.

Subject: Offer of Employment – Titan Weapons Co.

“I got it,” I whispered, pulling him into my arms, kissing the top of his curly head. “Mommy got the job.”

I forwarded the email to my mom before I could even breathe. She called within minutes, voice high with joy.

“I knew it! Oh, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you. Look at you—taking bold steps!”

We talked about logistics—childcare, commuting, adjusting routines. The position was remote-friendly, but I’d be expected to come into the office at least twice a week.

Peter would need to start preschool. We enrolled him the very next day in a small school nearby. It was nothing fancy, but the staff were warm, and the space felt safe. Peter clung to me that first morning, but I reminded him how brave he was. “It’s a new adventure for both of us,” I told him. “You’ve got this.”

Then came the wardrobe issue. My closet screamed "stay-at-home mom" and nothing about it said "junior architect at a weapons company." I took a trip to the thrift store, stretching every naira I had. I walked out with two pairs of slacks, a blazer that almost fit right, and a pair of slightly scuffed black flats.

“Not bad for a fresh start,” I muttered, smiling to myself as I caught my reflection in the changing room mirror.

The night before my first day, my mom sat beside me as I laid out my outfit and packed Peter’s lunch for the next morning.

“You’re doing this, Bella,” she said softly, touching my arm. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, because I sure am.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just leaned into her side. For the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe I was becoming someone I could be proud of too.

---

Titan Weapons Co. was housed in a sleek building of steel and glass that caught the morning sun like a shard of polished armor. As I stepped into the lobby, my breath caught. The floors gleamed, the scent of citrus polish hung in the air, and the receptionist greeted me with a smile that felt too perfect to be real.

I checked in and was given a badge: Isabella Gray – Junior Architectural Intern. It felt official. I clipped it to my blazer and followed the directions to the design floor.

My workspace was in a wide-open office with rows of desks and monitors. High ceilings. Cool lighting. A surprisingly cozy break area with real plants. As I slipped into my assigned seat, I looked around, taking it all in.

A cheerful voice broke through my thoughts. “Hey! Newbie?”

I turned to see a woman around my age, dressed in wide-leg pants and a cropped sweater, her braids tied up in a bun.

“Yeah. Isabella,” I said.

“I’m Jada,” she grinned. “Junior architect, one year in. Welcome to the chaos.”

I chuckled. “Thanks. I still can’t believe I’m actually here.”

“Oh, girl, same. The imposter syndrome is real. But you’ll get used to it. You’re under Mr. Denner, right?”

I nodded. “That’s what my welcome packet said.”

“Cool guy. Old-school. Thinks pencils are better than software sometimes, but he’s got vision. He’ll throw you in the deep end fast.”

Great. Just what I needed.

My onboarding was quick—some HR forms, a quick virtual safety briefing, and then Denner arrived. Mid-sixties, white beard, tortoise shell glasses, and a cane that clicked with every step.

“Gray?” he called, scanning the cubicles.

“Here.” I stood, trying to appear more confident than I felt.

He looked me over. “Architecture background?”

“Yes, sir. Bachelor’s degree. Some freelance projects too.”

“Good. We’ve got too many theorists and not enough doers. Come with me.”

I followed him to a conference room with blueprints spread out across the table. He pointed at a schematic of a weapons testing facility—one of Titan’s new projects.

“You’re on internal design support. Workflows, access routes, ventilation systems, utility lines. We’re redesigning this to accommodate stricter safety protocols. You’ll assist Martinez—senior architect. Do you know AutoCAD and Revit?”

“Yes, I—”

“Good. Start learning Titan’s internal template. It’s a mess, but you’ll figure it out.”

He handed me a thick binder. “And don’t ask me how to print that. You’re on your own.”

Jada gave me a thumbs-up as I returned to my desk.

By midday, I had my login credentials, access to past blueprints, and a welcome email from Martinez. The volume of data was overwhelming. I hadn’t touched design software in years, but it all came back to me—slowly, like muscles warming up after a long sleep.

Jada swung by with two cups of coffee around two o’clock.

“You survived the morning. Congrats.”

“Barely.” I laughed, taking the cup gratefully.

“You’ll be fine. Just don’t let Martinez scare you. She looks mean but she’s actually nice if you meet your deadlines.”

“Great,” I muttered. “I forgot how fast this world moves.”

“It’s a sprint marathon, basically,” Jada said. “Oh, and watch out for Mr. McQueen.”

That name jolted me.

“John Alexander McQueen?”

She raised a brow. “Yeah. CEO. Super intense. Barely speaks to interns. But he’s like a legend here. Designed some of Titan’s most iconic spaces himself. Rumor has it he used to be an architect before he took over the company.”

I swallowed. “Right. I will.”

I spent the rest of the afternoon poring over diagrams and safety schematics. Martinez sent a welcome message and asked me to join her for a virtual walkthrough the next day. I made notes, updated a few annotations, and by 5 p.m., my head was spinning.

I logged off and picked up Peter from school. He ran into my arms with the same enthusiasm he always had, his curls bouncing.

“How was school, baby?”

“I made a giraffe!” he said, waving a paper cutout. “Did you work at your big building?”

“I did,” I smiled, heart full. “And I missed you all day.”