Nothing but real life. It’s like a diary, but I leaked it…

Dearest Overthinker… You know that feeling when something doesn’t sit right — but you can’t quite prove why? I think I’ve found the beginning. Before B and her elaborate stories, there was S. At the time, I didn’t connect them. Now, looking back, I can’t unsee it. S came to her interview trembling — like a chihuahua staring up at a Great Dane. A and I softened the room for her. We told her funny stories, reassured her that we were a team, that we looked after our own. We made it feel safe. She relaxed. She impressed us. She got the job. We thought we’d found someone grateful. Someone gentle. Instead, we found chaos — wrapped in vulnerability. From her very first shift, there was always a reason. Not excuses. Reasons. “I was late because my aunties made me scrub the house before I left.” “I can’t come in. I think I’ve got what A had.” That one stopped me. Only I knew A was pregnant. For S to “have what A had” would have required immaculate conception — especially considering she’d told ...

Dearest Overthinkers… Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I think I’m losing my mind. Would you believe me if I told you I think there’s a girl lying about her entire life to impress me? Because I do. Bear with me. It gets strange. Let’s go back to the beginning. It was the tail end of spring and work had descended into chaos. We’d practically doubled in size overnight but didn’t have the staff to survive it. Management had been searching for weeks — no luck — until she walked in for an interview. She had it all. The soft eyes. The easy smile. That laugh that makes people lean in. On first impression she looked like the missing piece. She spoke well, sold herself beautifully, and was given a trial to prove her enthusiasm wasn’t just words on a CV. She smashed it. Pressure suited her. She thrived. She left that day grinning — and we were relieved. We’re the kind of workplace that bonds fast. When you work in chaos, you cling to each other. Stories are told. Hearts are o...