Cynthia didn't expect much from a Wednesday. It was a standard, midweek kind of day: emails, calls, and the occasional printer jam. Yet, as soon as she stepped into VOS Art & Media, something felt off. The office was too quiet. Usually, the marketing department buzzed with activity, keyboards clicking, phones ringing, and Cynthia muttering sarcastic commentary under her breath. Today, it was eerily still.
She frowned and walked toward her desk. Ethan was already there, staring at his computer with the kind of intensity reserved for people defusing bombs or solving ancient puzzles.
"Morning," Cynthia said cautiously. "Why does it feel like we're in a library?"
Ethan looked up, eyes wide. "You haven't heard?"
"Uh… heard what?"
He gestured toward the open folder on his desk. "A client's proposal file… it's missing. Completely gone. From the shared drive."
Cynthia's heart skipped a beat. Missing files were serious business at VOS. A single misplaced document could trigger a domino effect of chaos, angry emails, and deadlines being shredded
"Well," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "at least it's not on fire… yet." She muttered under her breath, "But give it another thirty minutes, and who knows?"
Ethan swallowed hard. "We… we don't know who took it. Or why."
Cynthia pinched the bridge of her noseShe had survived spilled coffee, printer malfunctions, and Alexander Kane's relentless deadlines—but now? Now she had to find a missing file before the day ended, or risk professional catastrophe.
She began her investigation like a detective in a cheap TV show. First, she checked the shared drive herself. Nothing. Then, she scanned her own emails, her sent items, and even her deleted folder, hoping against hope that the document had accidentally ended up there
"Did anyone else have access?" she asked Ethan, trying to think like someone who didn't just want to scream into her coffee cup.
For the next hour, Cynthia and Ethan went desk to desk, questioning colleagues politely but firmly. "Have you seen the client proposal file?" she asked, feigning calm professionalism while secretly imagining the file growing legs and walking out the door.
Responses ranged from blank stares to sympathetic shrugs. No one had seen anything. The office hummed around them, ordinary and oblivious, making the missing file feel even more like a phantom.
By mid-morning, Cynthia had developed a list of suspects, although calling anyone guilty at this stage would have been dramatic—and probably illegal. Still, the sense of mystery gnawed at her. Something about a missing file made her feel like she was in a proper investigation, minus the trench coat and magnifying glass.
Then came the first real clue.
"Wait," Ethan whispered, leaning over his desk. "Look at this email chain. It's… weird."
Cynthia squinted at the screen. The email was from a junior designer, subject line: Client Proposal – Final. But the attachment was blank. Absolutely blank. And yet, the timestamp suggested it had been sent thirty minutes ago.
"Someone tried to send the file… but it's empty?" Cynthia muttered. "This isn't just missing—it's… sabotaged?"
Ethan nodded, looking pale. "Could it be a technical error?"
"Maybe," Cynthia said, trying to sound reasonable. "But in an office like this, 'maybe' is basically a crime."
Determined to solve the mystery, Cynthia retraced the steps of the file: who touched it last, who opened it, who emailed it. Each lead led to a dead end or a blank stare. She was beginning to wonder if the file had simply vanished into thin air.
Lunchtime arrived, but Cynthia had no appetite. She nibbled at her granola bar while Ethan nervously scrolled through his own emails. "Do you think someone actually took it?" he asked.
Cynthia shrugged. "I don't know, Ethan. But if they did, they're either brilliant… or they've never worked in an office before. Stealing a file is one thing. Losing it in the shared drive? That's pure chaos."
The afternoon brought more suspense. Alexander appeared in the marketing department, clipboard in hand, moving like a hawk. Cynthia and Ethan froze. Professionalism was key. No panicking, no showing signs of desperation, even though the missing file might have been the apocalypse in Alexander's eyes.
"Brooks," he said sharply, "any updates on the client proposal?"
Cynthia straightened, keeping her voice calm. "We're investigating, sir. We've traced the emails and are checking every system it passed through. We'll resolve this promptly."
Alexander gave a curt nod, satisfied—or at least professionally indifferent—and moved on. Cynthia let out a quiet sigh. That had been close.
As the clock ticked closer to 4 PM, Cynthia was beginning to suspect something strange: maybe the file wasn't lost at all. Maybe… someone was testing them. A practical joke? A distraction? Either way, it was messing with her perfectly ordered world.
Then, the breakthrough came.
Cynthia's computer pinged with a new message: "ethan check this." she pointed to a folder in the shared drive labeled Archive_2022. Ethan frowned. She opened it—and there it was. The missing client proposal file, sitting innocently among last year's documents.
Cynthia blinked. "It was… archived?"
Ethan nodded slowly. "Apparently. Someone must have moved it by mistake."
Cynthia exhaled a dramatic sigh, leaning back in her chair. "And here I was, imagining office espionage, secret agents, and hackers disguised as interns. It was just… human error."
She saved the file back to the correct folder and sent a quick notification to Alexander. Within minutes, the professional machine that was her boss had reviewed it, nodded silently, and returned to his work. No drama, no emotion, just business as usual. Cynthia allowed herself a small, victorious grin.
The office slowly returned to normal. Phones rang, printers hummed, and the faint smell of someone's leftover lunch wafted through the air. Cynthia and Ethan exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging that today had been unusual—but survived.
By 5 PM, Cynthia packed her bag, feeling satisfied. Mystery solved, professionalism maintained, humor intact. She stepped out into the city streets, taking a deep breath. The city was still relentless, still chaotic, but she had conquered another day at VOS.
"See you tomorrow, city," she whispered. "Hopefully with fewer missing files."