The Intern

"I told you the answer would be ugly, Brynne..." (30)

The first thing I registered was how cold it was being by the sea. It took me a few wrong turns but I finally found this building after twenty minutes of driving along a narrow road where the tree branches and bushes hit against my side mirrors. To anyone else, it would seem this place hadn't been occupied in about fifty years but I knew better. I knew that money had been pouring into this place from the richer people of New York City.

—I just didn't know why.

The front doors had been nailed shut from the outside so I decided to look around for a side door or at least for a crowbar. People left those things lying around, right?

Instead, I walked further along the building towards the side in hopes I'd find a side door or something. But no such luck. The entire place was boarded up.

What did I really expect? That the building would be open and someone would be here to acknowledge me?

I was way too naive.

Frustrated, I exhaled loudly before turning around to head back to my rental car... when a thought struck me.

—tyre iron. There has to be a tyre iron in the trunk. I could use that, right?

I was determined for this to work. So I grabbed it from the trunk and walked up to one of the smaller doors and tried my best to pry them off. Trust me, it wasn't easy but I managed to get a few off where I could bend under and fit through the open space they tried to cover up.

Inside was dark and grungy—not to mention smelly. I had to cover my nose with my hand while trying to navigate through the dark with only a few streams of light coming in from the cracks and streaks in the ceiling. I could hear the water softly splashing against the side of the building as I ventured further inside. So far it was a big open space with a few doors to the far right; possibly leading to somewhere else.

I skipped over a few water puddles towards one of the doors only to realize it was locked when I tried the handle. I jiggled it a little bit harder; hoping that because the place was old, the door would be a bit easier to break open.

—but no such luck.

I tired the next door and it was the same result. Maybe I didn't think this through...

Maybe I should come back with proper tools. Or maybe I should just try to kick it in. It always looked so easy in movies, right?

I stepped back and braced myself for a minute before lifting my foot and kicking it near the handle. It didn't budge the first time so I tried again... and again... and again... before it finally popped open.

I cheered out loud at my accomplishment. The door swung open and I stepped inside right after it. The room wasn't as dark as the rest of the place so immediately I saw that it was an office. A desk sat in the middle of the room with a chair. On the walls were old, dusty pictures of older men—none of whom I recognized.

I tried the drawer handles in hopes that something important was left in them. All of them were locked except for one drawer at the bottom left. Inside had some old files documenting old transactions back when the company was in operation. Most of the data was numbers; nothing of which I understood... but I did understand names.

The company used to receive shipments from another company abroad called Rico's Furnishing. Almost every week there would be a shipment coming in and only from Rico's.

—but the dates... the dates of these shipments went as far back as 1934.

Holy shit. What the hell is going on here?

I used the sleeve of my dress shirt to remove my finger prints before placing it back into the drawer. I did the same with the drawer handle and then with the door handle as I left the room. Nothing could be done about my footprints in the dust so I only hope that no one will notice—if there was anyone here.