Ethan's gaze swept over the scene, taking in Harper's ashen face and the hostile stares of the three women. His eyes widened as he caught sight of the disaster that was Harper's office.
"What happened?" he demanded, striding forward to get a closer look. "Is that... ash?" He poked at the grey blob covering Harper's keyboard. "Wax?"
Jake nodded grimly. "It appears these three," and he gestured to the trio, "thought it would be funny to recreate a traumatic bank fire from Harper's past."
He cast a meaningful look at Vanessa, Tiffany, and Janis. The women fidgeted under the combined examination of Jake and Ethan, their earlier bravado dissolving.
Ethan's expression grew stern as he pivoted to confront the trio. "Is this accurate? Were you responsible?"
Vanessa attempted to object, but Tiffany interrupted her. "It was merely a prank," she blurted out defiantly.
"Yeah, just a jest," Janis remarked childishly. "Harper can't take a joke, I guess."
"This… you call this a prank?" Kelly exploded, clearly enraged. Her eyes surveyed Harper's workstation. Plastic sheeting shielded the actual desk from harm, but it was blanketed in ash and scorched debris. Gray wax effectively mimicked the appearance of a melted monitor and keyboard, while shaving foam imitated fire extinguisher residue. Burned papers in the trash indicated where the acrid stench came from, although it in no way accounted for the amount of ash coating every surface.
"This is far more than a prank. Considerable preparation went into this," Jake stated, addressing Ethan. He flipped over a partially incinerated calendar on Harper's desk. His voice trembled with anger. "They investigated her, uncovered information about the bank blaze in California where we were both working, four years ago. They must have scoured news articles for images, because this..." and he gestured to encompass the entirety of her desk, "This was orchestrated, intentionally arranged, to mirror one of those publishedphotographs. Then they gathered items to char and incinerate, and procured ash, soot, wax, to bring here solely for this purpose."
Harper shuddered, still half stuck in the past, in that fire, the heat, the alarms and screams. The smoke. The cuts on her legs as she crawled through glass from exploded overhead lights. Kelly crouched down before her.
“Keep breathing, in and out. Just focus on that,” she encouraged, her voice soft with sympathy. She raised her voice a little as she spoke over her shoulder. “She's in shock. Can someone make a cup of hot tea, lots of sugar?”
“I will.” That was Megan, one of the tellers. "I'll be right back."
Harper coughed, and whispered, “It’s okay - it's better.”
"And it will be even better once you have something warm," Kelly promised her. "Remember that the smoke isn't real. The air is fresh and clear - just focus on taking it into your lungs."
She nodded, but struggled to take in a deep breath, her hand going to her throat. “I know. I just… it feels like I can’t breathe. I know it’s not real, but I still can’t…”
“I have an inhaler.” A hand appeared in her vision, the inhaler thrust under her nose. “If she uses it, it might help overcome the psychological effects.”
“That’s a good idea.” Kelly took it and passed it to Harper. “Here, try this.”
Harper took it obediently, and inhaled two puffs before raising her eyes to see who’d given it to her. It was Amelia, one of the bank’s loan officers, and she managed a smile. “Thank you. That did help. I’m not actually short of breath...”
“Your brain just thinks it is.” Amelia smiled and patted her shoulder. “This will help to trick your brain into believing your lungs are getting the oxygen they actually are.”
“Yes,” Harper said, grateful for the understanding. She had to keep her words and sentences short, or that awful feeling returned, of not being able to get enough air.
Megan returned with a large mug of steaming tea, and thrust it into her hands. “Here you are.”
Harper took it and sipped cautiously. She glanced around, and flushed, starting to feel embarrassment at being such a focus.
Jake, apparently, was still good at reading her, because he gave her a pointed look. “Don’t even,” he cautioned. “Drink your tea, and just don’t even go there.”
He rose to his feet, turning his attention to Ethan and Kelly, who wore matching expressions, clearly both appalled and angry.
“Just so you know, this isn’t all these three have done, this is just the worst of it. Her lunches in the lunch room refrigerator have consistently been trashed. All the pens on her desk are somehow mysteriously always out of ink, so she has to lock up working pens in her drawer. She brought in a vase of flowers one day, and they took it to the women’s room while she was on break and vomited in it, so it stank and she had to throw out the flowers. It's been ongoing and constant.”
Kelly's expression was one of shock and dismay. "That's dreadful!" she exclaimed. "How long has this situation persisted?"
"From the moment she set foot here," Jake responded, his tone somber. "They ambushed her here in her office the very first day and informed her she had no business being here, that she'd usurped Tiffany as Benjamin's replacement."
Ethan's forehead creased with concern. "Harper, why didn't you tell us?" he inquired. "We would never have permitted this to go on."
Jake ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I can explain why," he stated, his fiery glare sweeping over the trio of tormentors. "She wished to avoid drawing attention to herself. All she wanted was for the harassment to stop. But they refused to relent. And Harper isn't the sole victim, either."
"Jake, please," she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. Harper reached out blindly, her trembling fingers searching for his forearm in a desperate attempt to calm him. "Don't." The words caught in her throat, thick with emotion and unshed tears.
