Kira had been at the company for exactly nine days, and already her desk looked like it had survived a minor tornado. Papers fanned out like fallen leaves, sticky notes clung to surfaces at odd angles, and one rogue binder clip had somehow migrated to the floor and taken up residence near her shoe.

She stood over the mess now, hands in her hair, muttering, “It has to be here. It has to.”

Kyle materialized first, leaning against the cubicle wall with the casual confidence of someone who had long ago made peace with office entropy. “You look like you’re about to challenge that desk to a duel,” he said.

“I might,” Kira replied. “I need the documentation for the quarterly report. It was in a folder. A blue one. Or maybe green. Or ... something folder-shaped.”

Kyle stepped inside the cubicle and surveyed the landscape. “Alright. We’ll find it. Worst case, we declare the desk a disaster zone and apply for federal assistance.”