The next morning arrived earlier than I would have liked. My alarm buzzed relentlessly, dragging me out of a fragmented dream. I groaned, stretching under the covers before reluctantly swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. Day two at Summit River Corp loomed ahead, and I knew I couldn’t afford to slack off.
Shuffling to the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face to shake off the remnants of sleep. The early morning light filtering through the window felt sharp, almost too bright. After a quick shower, I stood in front of my closet, debating my outfit. Professional but not too stiff—that was the goal. I eventually settled on a crisp blouse and black slacks. “This’ll do,” I muttered, nodding at my reflection.
When I stepped into the kitchen, Mom was already there, humming softly as she sipped her tea and flipped through a magazine. The familiar scent of jasmine tea and buttered toast filled the room, making the morning feel warmer, even in the rush.
“Good morning, Mae,” she said without looking up, her voice carrying a soft smile. “You’re up early.”
“Morning, Mom,” I replied, grabbing a slice of toast. “Didn’t have much of a choice. Big day ahead.”
Mom set her cup down, giving me a knowing look. “A single slice of toast won’t keep you going all day.”
“I’ll grab something during lunch,” I promised, taking a quick bite. “Promise.”
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The second day at Summit River Corp started with a mix of nerves and cautious optimism. After checking in at the front desk, I made my way to the Software and Product Development (SPD) department. As I approached the office space, the hum of keyboards, soft conversations, and bursts of laughter filled the air.
Aaron, the Technova team leader, greeted me with his usual laid-back yet professional demeanour. “Morning, Mae. Ready for round two?”
“Trying my best,” I said with a grin.
Aaron kicked off the day with a walkthrough of Technova’s operations. “As part of the SPD department, we focus on software solutions for healthcare. Think hospital management systems, patient record platforms—tools that make healthcare smarter, faster, and more accessible. Our work targets inefficiencies in the industry.”
He went on to explain that the SPD department was divided into 24 specialized teams, each focused on a different niche. “Technova is dedicated to healthcare solutions. Neurox tackles mental health tools, while Optix specializes in medical imaging. Together, we cover a lot of ground.”
“That’s impressive,” I said, scribbling in my notebook.
Aaron nodded. “Right now, we’re working on MedSync—a healthcare integration platform that connects patient data across clinics and hospitals. It ensures real-time, accurate information for medical professionals while prioritizing security.”
“Wow, that’s… a lot,” I said, feeling the weight of the responsibility.
“It is,” Aaron admitted, “but it’s manageable with a solid team—which brings us to your next task: meeting the people you’ll be working with.”
He led me to Technova’s workspace, an open floor plan with clusters of desks. Monitors displayed code, data visualizations, and interface designs. The team worked with focused energy, occasionally sharing laughs or updates.
Aaron gestured toward a woman with neatly tied hair, focused on her screen. “That’s Lena, our senior developer. If you ever hit a backend snag, she’s your best bet.”
Lena glanced up with a small smile. “Welcome to the team, Mae.”
Next was a tall man in a bright yellow sweater and oversized glasses. “This is Ravi, our UX/UI designer. He’s the creative genius behind making our products intuitive and visually appealing. Also, brace yourself for his ‘quirky’ jokes under pressure.”
Ravi spun in his chair, grinning. “Quirky? I’ll take that. Don’t worry, Mae, you’ll love me.”
I chuckled. “Looking forward to it.”
Aaron moved on. “This is Isla, our data scientist. She turns raw numbers into actionable insights.”
Isla glanced up from her graphs and code, her demeanour serious but approachable. “Welcome, Mae. Let me know if you need help with analytics or data integration.”
“Thanks, Isla,” I replied, already feeling the depth of expertise around me.
We stopped by a desk cluttered with coffee cups and sticky notes. “This is Benji, our junior developer. He’s focused on the front end—making sure everything looks good and works seamlessly.”
Benji grinned sheepishly. “Still learning the ropes, but if you need someone to pair program with, I’m your guy.”
Aaron nodded approvingly. “And over here is Nina, our QA specialist. She has an eagle eye for bugs.”
Nina looked up, her expression sharp but kind. “Welcome, Mae. Just a heads-up: I don’t go easy when it comes to critiques.”
“Noted,” I said with a nervous laugh.
Aaron gestured to an empty desk. “That’s Finn’s spot. He’s new, like you, but he’s out today. You’ll meet him soon—he’s full of ideas.”
Curious, I nodded. “Looking forward to it.”
Finally, Aaron pointed to a man surrounded by screens filled with logs. “This is Tariq, our DevOps engineer. If something crashes—or when it crashes—he’s your guy.”
Tariq gave a calm nod. “Don’t panic if things go down. I’ve got it covered.”
“And last but not least,” Aaron said, stopping by a woman with a notebook open, “Sophia, our business analyst. She’s the bridge between us and the clients.”
Sophia smiled warmly. “Hi, Mae. If you need help understanding client requirements, I’m here.”
By the end of the introductions, I felt the weight of the talent and experience surrounding me. Despite the complexity of the work ahead, the team’s camaraderie was already evident.
“All right,” Aaron said, clapping his hands. “Now that you know everyone—or almost everyone—let’s dive into onboarding. I’ll walk you through MedSync, then Lena and Nina will guide you through the technical details.”
Aaron led me to a whiteboard at the far end of the room, where “MedSync: Roadmap” was scrawled in bold, blue letters. Various diagrams, timelines, and task lists filled the board, some sections neatly color-coded, others sporting sticky notes with handwritten comments.
“Let’s talk about where we’re at with MedSync,” Aaron began, pointing to a flowchart detailing the project’s modules. “Right now, we’re in the integration phase, linking patient data from different providers into a unified database. Once that’s stable, we’ll move on to optimizing the user interface for medical professionals.”
“Got it,” I said, trying to absorb the information while scribbling furiously in my notebook.
He smiled. “Don’t worry if it feels overwhelming at first. You’re here to learn, and we’re here to help. For today, we’ll start with something small but essential—familiarizing yourself with the codebase.”
Aaron handed me a laptop and gestured toward an empty desk near the centre of the workspace. “This’ll be your spot. Lena will walk you through our repository and the tools we use. Take your time, and don’t hesitate to ask questions.”
I nodded, settling into the desk. As I powered up the laptop, Lena appeared beside me, carrying her own device. “Okay, Mae,” she said with a faint smile, “let’s dive in.”
She pulled up the codebase, a sprawling collection of files and folders. “This is our main repository for MedSync. The backend is written in Python, primarily using Django for the framework. We also have a few microservices in Flask for specific modules like data encryption and processing. On the front end, we’re using React.”
I nodded along, already familiar with most of the tools she mentioned but eager to see how they’d implemented them for such a large-scale project. Lena navigated through the file structure, explaining the purpose of key components.
“This folder,” she said, opening one labelled data_integrations, “contains the APIs we use to pull and push data from external systems. For now, I want you to focus on understanding these. They’re the backbone of our integration work.”
She clicked open a file named patient_data_sync.py, walking me through the logic. As she explained the code, I couldn’t help but admire how clean and organized it was, even in its complexity.
“You’ll be working on a smaller module related to this later,” Lena added, “but for now, get comfortable reading and navigating the code.”
I spent the next hour exploring the repository, jotting down notes and occasionally asking Lena for clarification. As I got into the rhythm, I began piecing together how MedSync’s various components interacted. The challenge was daunting, but I found myself drawn in by the intricacy of it all.
By mid-morning, Aaron stopped by my desk with a cup of coffee. “How’s it going?”
“Pretty good,” I replied, sitting back for a moment. “Lena’s been super helpful.”
“She’s great,” Aaron agreed. “But let’s not overwork you on day two. Take a quick break—grab a coffee, chat with the team, or just stretch your legs.”
Taking his advice, I wandered over to the small kitchenette tucked into a corner of the workspace. Ravi was there, balancing a mug and a plate of cookies precariously in one hand.
“Mae!” he exclaimed, grinning. “Welcome to the best part of the office—the snack haven.”
I laughed, grabbing a cup of tea. “Do you all survive on cookies and caffeine?”
“Basically,” Ravi replied, taking a dramatic bite of a cookie. “Fuel for innovation, as they say.”
As we chatted, Benji joined us, holding a can of energy drink. “So, Mae,” he said, leaning against the counter, “what do you think of Technova so far?”
“It’s incredible,” I admitted. “Honestly, I feel a little intimidated by how talented everyone is.”
Benji shrugged, a lopsided grin on his face. “Don’t worry. We’ve all been there. You’ll find your rhythm soon enough.”
After the short break, I returned to my desk feeling more at ease. Aaron had left a sticky note on my monitor: “Meet me in the conference room at 2 PM for the project briefing.”
The rest of the morning passed in a blur as I continued exploring the codebase. Occasionally, team members would stop by to check in or introduce themselves, making me feel more at home.
At 2 PM sharp, I entered the conference room, laptop in hand. The space was modern, with a large glass table surrounded by sleek chairs. A projector hummed softly, casting slides onto the wall.
Aaron was already there, along with Sophia and Nina. “Welcome,” he said as I took a seat. “This is where we’ll go over the current status of MedSync and assign tasks for the week.”
Sophia clicked to the next slide, which displayed a detailed timeline of deliverables. “Our primary focuses this week,” she explained, “is finalizing the data integration for our pilot program. Once that’s complete, we’ll run a series of QA tests before deployment.”
Nina chimed in, her tone brisk. “That’s where I come in. Mae, I’ll need you to assist with test cases once the integration module is ready. It’s a good way to understand the system’s functionality from end to end.”
I nodded, already feeling the weight of responsibility, but also a growing excitement. This was real. I wasn’t just observing; I was part of the process.
By the time the meeting ended, I had a clear sense of the work ahead. As I returned to my desk, I felt a renewed determination. Day two wasn’t just about settling in—it was about proving that I belonged here.
By the time the clock struck 6 PM, I was utterly drained. The day had been a whirlwind of information, introductions, and tasks that made my head spin. I packed up my laptop, carefully tucking it into my bag before slinging it over my shoulder. The office was still alive with the faint hum of conversations and the rhythmic tapping of keyboards, but I couldn’t stay a second longer.
“See you tomorrow, Mae,” Aaron called as I passed his desk, his tone friendly but not pushy.
I mustered a small smile and waved. “See you.”
The elevator ride down to the lobby was silent and oddly soothing, the only sound coming from the faint whirring of the machinery. When the doors opened, the cool evening air outside hit me like a breath of fresh relief. The city’s bustle felt strangely distant as I stepped onto the sidewalk, my feet heavy with each step toward the bus stop.
The weight of the day pressed down on me like a physical thing. My head buzzed, not from caffeine but from the sheer volume of interactions, instructions, and expectations. Fast-paced was an understatement for Summit River Corp—it was a race, and I wasn’t sure if I’d learned how to pace myself yet.
As much as I appreciated the opportunity and the brilliance of the Technova team, I couldn’t ignore how dizzy and out of sync I felt. I wasn’t fond of this much social interaction—never had been. Talking to so many people, trying to remember names, and navigating their personalities was like running an endless mental marathon.
By the time the bus pulled up, I collapsed into one of the seats near the back, resting my head against the window. The city blurred past, neon signs and streetlights blending into streaks of colour. My thoughts wandered back to the team—Aaron’s patience, Lena’s quiet guidance, Ravi’s humour, and the intensity of Nina’s sharp eyes. They were all good people, and I could tell they wanted me to succeed.
Still, the pressure of keeping up with them, of proving myself worthy of being part of this fast-moving company, felt like a mountain I was only beginning to climb.
When the bus finally reached my stop, I trudged down the quiet street, the familiar outline of my house coming into view under the dim glow of the streetlights. The soft crunch of gravel under my shoes filled the still night as I approached the front door.
The door creaked as I stepped inside, and the faint hum of the refrigerator broke the silence of the house. The familiar warmth of home greeted me, though it felt more like a backdrop than a refuge tonight. Tossing my bag onto the nearest chair, I stood there for a moment, staring blankly at the softly lit living room.
I let out a heavy sigh, kicking off my shoes and sinking onto the couch. The quietness of the house wrapped around me, muted yet strangely comforting. It was a welcome escape from the buzz of keyboards, the chatter of coworkers, and the relentless pace of the day. Even so, the weight of exhaustion lingered, leaving me drained and unsure if I felt at peace or just numb.
As much as I loved coding and solving problems, this was the part of the day I craved the most—being alone, letting the noise fade into the background, and simply existing.
I stared at the ceiling, exhaustion weighing down my limbs. The thought of doing it all over again tomorrow made me feel both determined and a little queasy. But for now, I closed my eyes, letting the quiet embrace me.
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One day at a time, Mae. One day at a time.
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Timestamps: 20:15
 
Ugh, Finn. Of all names, why did I have to hear that one today? Aaron was talking about someone at the office—he said the name “Finn,” and I swear my stomach dropped. Please tell me it’s not him.
I mean, what are the chances, right? But just hearing that name brought back all the crap I’ve worked so hard to bury. High school feels like a lifetime ago, but the way he treated me still stings if I let myself think about it too much. Finn wasn’t just a bad boyfriend—he was the worst. He used me. Like, straight-up used me. And then made me feel like I was the one who wasn’t enough.
Honestly, he’s the main reason I’ve been so over guys. He made relationships feel like a scam. I hated how much power I let him have over me back then, and I’m not about to let that happen again.
But still… what if it is him? Would he even remember me? Would he care? Do I even care? Ugh, I don’t know. Part of me wants to laugh at how far I’ve come since then—like, I’m not the same person he messed with. But another part of me just doesn’t want to deal with him at all. Anyway, fingers crossed it’s just a random Finn and not that Finn. Please let the universe give me a break.
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            As I sat at the table, eating the leftover pasta, my phone buzzed again with another message. Mom.
"How was work today? Did you eat properly?"
The words were simple, but they carried an odd weight that always caught me off guard. I stared at the screen for a moment before replying:
"It was fine. Ate lunch, just finished dinner now. Thanks."
I hit send and stared at the phone for a moment longer, the glow of the screen casting a faint light in the otherwise dim kitchen. Her concern seemed genuine these days, but I couldn’t help but feel the distance between us—an invisible wall we had quietly agreed to leave untouched.
We hadn’t talked much about Dad in years. It was easier that way, I guessed. Nor had we addressed the mess I made of things after Finn. She had grounded me back then, saying I needed to “think about my actions,” but I wasn’t sure if she understood how hard it had been for me. Losing Dad, losing Finn… it felt like everything fell apart at once, and I had been left to pick up the pieces alone. I remembered those endless nights in my room, staring at the ceiling, choking back tears while pretending I was fine.
Since university, Mom had softened. She tried to be kind, checking in like she did tonight. She’d make little gestures—like leaving a cup of tea on the counter before I left for work or offering to pick me up groceries when I didn’t ask. And yet, there was something unspoken lingering between us—a gap that neither of us seemed ready or willing to bridge.
Sometimes I wondered if she felt it too, or if she thought her kindness now was enough to erase the past. I didn’t know how to bring it up, or even if I wanted to. Maybe some things were better left buried, even if they haunted the edges of every interaction.
Shaking off the thought, I rinsed my bowl and placed it in the drying rack. The house was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the fridge. Heading to my room, I flicked off the kitchen light and let the darkness follow me down the hall.
Pretending everything was fine had become second nature by now. But as I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, I wondered how long I could keep it up.