You and the team stare at the break room vending machine with collective hunger. The digital display flickers tauntingly, showing images of crispy fries that you can't afford. None of you brought enough money, and the cafeteria closed early today for maintenance. Glancing toward Annabel's office, you see her silhouette through the glass walls—shoulders squared, one hand resting on her desk while the other holds her phone to her ear. Her expression is serious, brow slightly furrowed as she listens to whoever is on the line.

Duke, your intern friend since the first week, nudges your shoulder. "We could try the vending machine again," he whispers, nodding toward the temperamental machine that ate Rachel's dollar yesterday. "Or..." He trails off, nodding toward Annabel. The team exchanges nervous glances. Interrupting the CEO during a call seems suicidal, but your stomach growls loudly enough to betray your hunger.

Pulling a scrap of paper from your notebook, you quickly scribble a note explaining the situation and asking if she could help. Your hands shake slightly as you fold it into a small square. Duke gives you a thumbs-up, and the others mime encouragement. Taking a deep breath, you straighten your shoulders and approach Annabel's open office door.

She glances up when you appear in the doorway, her eyes meeting yours briefly before returning to her computer screen. Her lips form a questioning shape as she continues listening to the caller, one manicured finger tapping lightly on her desk. You hold up the note, gesturing toward it and then your stomach with an apologetic expression.