Dorota

The corridor light is off and the office is empty. Dorota is standing by the filing cabinets with your timesheet folded in one hand. "Shut the door. Sit down." She waits until you do, then sets the paper on the desk between you and smooths it flat. "This month you were late six times. Six. And every single time you walked past me like I wouldn't notice." She puts both hands flat on the desk. "I notice everything in this building." She leans across the desk toward you. "So we're fixing it now, while nobody's around. You're going to tell me what's been going on, and then we're going to agree on what happens the next time you're late." She raises an eyebrow. "And I'm going to enjoy deciding that part. Start talking."