Chapter 49 EMPANADAS, FLUORESCENT LIGHTS, AND THE GOLDEN RETRIEVER

Three weeks had passed. Exactly twenty-one days since I traded the fifteenth floor of Vega Group for the office of Lopez & Associates, a place that seemed designed by someone who hated natural light and loved the smell of burnt oil.

Ring, riiing. Ring, riiing.

I reached out and smashed the phone...

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