Free Epic Escape by Emily Evans Page B

her jacket and lifted a hand to knock.
    “Psst.” A harried lady popped her head from behind a cube and handed Megan a file folder. “Hey, Hetta, you’ll need this.”
    Megan took the folder. “Okay, thanks, um, my name’s Megan.”
    The lady nodded, before her head disappeared behind the wall.
    Tap, tap, tap.
    “Enter.”

Chapter 29

MR. STEVE
     
    M r. Steve wiped his nose on a handkerchief and spoke without looking up, “What?”
    “Um, hi, I’m supposed to get the copier code from you?”
    Mr. Steve’s eyes rose from his tissue, but his gaze didn’t reach higher than Megan’s chest. He shoved his thick glasses further up his nose with his left middle finger. “What?” Sniff.
    He sounded like he needed to blow his nose.
    Megan realized where his eyes were staring and held the file in front of her chest. “Uh, the copy code?”
    “423A9.”
    Megan left fast. She retrieved her stack of papers and took them into the copy room. The copy room smelled like new paper and the machines buzzed and made the room warm. Megan leaned against the heated machine, aligned the pages in the beige document feeder, and typed in the code. Nothing happened. She rattled the feeder. Nothing happened.
    Sniff. Mr. Steve huffed his way into the room.
    “Um, the code you gave me isn’t working. What is it, again?”
    Mr. Steve got in her space, and looked over her shoulder at the keypad. Sniff. Megan pushed into the hard edges of the copier to give him more room.
    He stepped closer. “You forgot to press pound. The password won’t work without the pound key, silly girl.” Mr. Steve put his arm around her and pressed the button. Whoosh. The copies fed through the machine.
    Mr. Steve grunted and nodded, then grabbed an envelope off the shelf, and headed back to the door. On his way out, he brushed against Megan as if there weren’t enough room to get by, although there was easily five feet of clear space behind her. He said, “Excuse me. Pardon me.”
    Megan threw herself against the machine to get away. The edge of the paper holder jabbed her shin and tore a small hole in her panty hose. She rubbed the sore spot knowing it would run.
    The manager appeared in the doorway, her eyes on Megan. “When you wear stockings with runs in them, you’re not in compliance with the dress code.”
    “It just happened.”
    The manager pinched the thick material of her own
suntan-colored hose and stretched the fabric out two inches, and she released it. The material snapped back into place leaving only a small pucker. Pop. The manager seemed satisfied with the sound, so she gave the nylon a second snap. Pop. “You need to buy a stronger-grade of hose. You don’t have to be so… what’s the word? Fancy .”
    I will never wear tan pantyhose made of industrial grade material, Megan said to herself. I make this vow now. Not even if those stockings get me a job, or a way home, or Chase. Never. Megan made a break for the door.
    “Oh, and Hetta? Remember, those forms are due at five p.m. You should probably keep a list of how many you’ve done in case I need regular updates on your progress.”
    “Five o’clock. Got it. And, my name’s Megan.”

Chapter 30

COPIES
     
    M egan flexed her fingers and hoisted her completed stack. The acrid smell of lunch wafted through the hallway: Someone re-heating fish in the microwave again. She held her breath as she moved down the overheated hall, and sat the pile on the manager’s desk, just managing to keep a proud smile off her face. “Here you go.” She rocked back on her heels and awaited the praise.
    The manager waited several seconds, and slowly raised her head. “Oh, when did you come in? I didn’t hear you knock.” After that subtle chastisement, the manager glanced from the door to the stack and picked up the top page. “It seems you used blue ink. These have to be done in black ink because of the copier, you know.”
    Megan frowned. “You can photocopy blue ink.”
    “I don’t make