Rebellion

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The red call light was blinking again. With a sigh, I rose. The plunging neckline of my uniform chafed. I tugged it higher.

"Mr. President?" 

A glass vase flew by and crashed into the wall beside me. In one hand, he clutched today's issue of The Times; the other, he pointed angrily at me. "Find the leaker by tomorrow or I'll find a new lawyer."

I bowed and exited, already mourning the loss of yet another, innocent staffer.  

When I returned, a notification caught my eye. One unread message. I opened it and smiled. It was from The Times.

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