Wendy's company had a monthly get-together. It wasn't anything formal, just different departments taking their employees out for some fun—karaoke, dinner, sometimes a trip to a country retreat. This time, someone had suggested they climb Mount Giltspire.
The company had already booked rooms at a four-star hotel at the foot of the mountain, a clear message: only those who reached the summit would get to stay. Wendy wanted to cry. Mount Giltspire was over 1,800 meters high. She hadn't climbed it since college, back when she and her friends had gone together.
The entire path was stone steps. It would take at least three or four hours to reach the top. Back then, she was young and fit, and the friends would often hike Mount Giltspire for fun. But last time they'd driven part of the way; today was all on foot.
She hated exercise and had no interest in it, but she had no choice. The company's senior management was attending, so as a secretary, she had to put on a brave face and push forward.
Finch was scanning the crowd. When he spotted Wendy near the back of the group, he jogged over. "Ms. Clifford, you made it! I was worried you weren't coming."
Wendy tucked a water bottle into her backpack and offered a faint smile. "The boss made it clear. I didn't have much of a choice."
Finch was also carrying a small backpack filled with drinks, snacks, and other supplies. He gave her an encouraging look. "It's just little Mount Giltspire. We can conquer it. You have to have faith, Ms. Clifford."
"I have… some, I guess," Wendy replied, her voice laced with doubt.

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