Mina stood in front of the copy machine, chewing her lip as it made an alarming grinding noise. She slapped the side gently. It groaned louder. "Please don't explode," she whispered. "I'm too young to die by toner."
"Miss Kang."
She jumped so hard she nearly kicked the paper tray. Isaac stood behind her, jacket off, sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows. He held a stack of documents, expression unreadable.
"Sir! I wasn't talking to myself," she blurted.
A lie. A bad one.
Isaac glanced at the machine. "It's jammed."
"Oh, yes, but I think it's just being dramatic?"
Isaac set his files down, stepped closer. "Move."
She scurried aside. He opened the side panel with practiced ease,like he'd done this a hundred times, and pulled out a curled, smoking piece of paper. Mina blinked. "Sir, you know how to fix copy machines?"
He didn't look up. "My father broke them constantly."
