26 | THE MASKED AUTHOR

JOY

I was thirty minutes late and when I entered the office, the cold and quiet environment was enough for me to know that something was wrong. Mr Richardson was sitting by the chair before my desk while Bailey was by the side of my chair, a worried look on her face.

"Good morning?" I said, my voice ringing with confusion.

"You’re the head of the fiction department. The only thing I expect for you to be is devoted, and coming late is not a good sign, Ms Gale," Mr Richardson snapped, without even giving me a chance to breathe. I glanced at Bailey, who was frowning and shaking her head at the same time.

"I don't need excuses."

Mr Richardson was a nice man, minus his moodiness, when he didn’t get what he wanted. And at this moment, it was I who couldn't complete a simple task. To be fair, it wasn't exactly an effortless task. The masked author was driving me crazy.

"The masked author called. Did you know?"

My bo