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Chapter 7

chapter 7

The Intern

Chapter 7: Behind the Mask

The predawn chill seeped through the windows of Harper’s car, rousing her from a fitful sleep. She shifted under her threadbare blanket, the stiffness in her neck reminding her she’d spent another night curled up in the backseat. Her breath fogged the air as she reached for the old duffel bag at her feet.

With practiced movements, Harper pulled out her essentials: a comb, travel-sized deodorant, and a small mirror. She propped the mirror on the dashboard, using the faint glow of a streetlight to see. The comb snagged on a tangle in her dark hair, and she winced, biting back a groan.

By the time her hair was brushed and pulled into a low ponytail, her hands were already reaching for the oversized hoodie and blazer that had become her uniform for the internship. They weren’t fashionable, but they covered the wear and tear of her few remaining clothes.

She sipped from a bottle of water and nibbled on the last piece of bread she had left from yesterday’s shift at the diner. The plain slice was dry and tasteless, but it would have to do until she could scrounge up something better.

Harper glanced at the clock on her phone. 6:45 a.m. She had just enough time to stop by the gym for a quick shower before heading to school.

By the time Harper arrived at Lexington & Walker for her afternoon internship, she was already running on fumes. The elevator ride to the firm’s 12th floor was quiet, the hum of the machinery a small reprieve from the chaos of her day.

“Good afternoon, Harper,” the receptionist said with a polite smile as Harper stepped into the office.

“Afternoon,” Harper replied, keeping her head down.

The firm buzzed with activity—lawyers pacing with files in hand, assistants typing furiously at their desks. Harper made her way to her small workspace, a desk tucked near the back of the office.

She dove into her assignments immediately, reviewing depositions and summarizing case law. This was her world—the clean lines of legal arguments, the sharp edges of logic. Here, she could shine.

But no matter how hard she worked, she could feel the eyes of her coworkers on her.

“She’s smart, no doubt about that,” Harper overheard one of the paralegals whisper near the coffee station. “But doesn’t she ever buy new clothes?”

“She’s probably just... thrifty,” another voice replied, though Harper caught the thinly veiled judgment in their tone.

She didn’t react, keeping her focus on the document in front of her. She’d heard it all before. Her blazer might have been frayed at the edges, and her shoes scuffed beyond repair, but she wasn’t here to impress anyone with her wardrobe.

Still, the comments stung more than she wanted to admit. They didn’t see her for who she was. They didn’t know she spent her mornings brushing her hair in a car or her nights fighting to stay warm in the backseat.

Mr. Callahan, at least, seemed to see her potential. When he stopped by her desk to review her latest summary, he gave her an approving nod.

“This is excellent work, Harper,” he said. “Clear, concise, and exactly what the partners need.”

“Thank you,” she replied, a small flicker of pride warming her chest.

But even with his praise, Harper couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider. Her natural beauty—hidden behind exhaustion, ill-fitting clothes, and a constant undercurrent of stress—was overlooked, just like so many other parts of her.

That night, Harper sat in her car, her notebook balanced on her lap as she scribbled out plans for the next day. Eat before school. Review notes during lunch. Research colleges after the internship.

Her stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since the slice of bread that morning. She rummaged through her bag and found an apple she’d taken from the diner’s breakroom.

As she bit into it, the crisp sweetness was a welcome distraction from the ache in her chest. She leaned back in the driver’s seat, staring out at the empty parking lot.

Her life was a patchwork of quiet struggles and fleeting victories. Each day was a test of her endurance, her ability to hold on just long enough to reach the next step.

The world saw her as quiet, different, even plain. But Harper knew that beneath the surface was a strength they couldn’t see—a quiet fire that kept her moving forward, no matter how many obstacles stood in her way.

Tomorrow was another day, and she would face it as she always did—with determination, grit, and the hope that someday, her hard work would be enough.

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