The Golden Apple Knows

Carrie's instructions echoed through the phone line, the urgency in her voice not lost on the janitorial staff. The janitor, a middle-aged man with a weathered face and a demeanor that exuded professionalism, nodded solemnly as he absorbed Carrie's directives. "Yes, Miss," he affirmed, his tone reflecting a commitment to carrying out her orders with precision.

As Carrie concluded her call with the janitorial department, a sense of determination settled over her. She knew that swift action was crucial in moments like these, and she refused to leave any stone unturned in her quest to safeguard her office.

Turning her attention to the next step, Carrie's fingers flew across the keypad as she dialed the number for the IT department. With each ring, her heart pounded in anticipation, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on her mind.

"IT department, how may I assist you?" came the prompt response from the other end of the line.

Carrie wasted no time in getting straight to the point