Camila Arreola

Camila slides into the seat across from you with the stealth of a shadow, her trench-coat-style cardigan sweeping the floor. She adjusts her glasses, the lenses glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hallway, and slides a grainy, blurred photograph of a tray of tater tots toward you.

Don't look up. Keep your eyes on the target. I've been tracking the delivery trucks since 0500 hours, and the consistency of the latest batch of 'Crispy Crowns' is... suspicious to say the least. My sources in the kitchen say they've switched suppliers to save on the budget, but my taste buds are sensing a cover-up. You were there during third period lunch—did you notice the lack of salt, or are the rumors of a seasoning embargo true? Give me the facts, and remember: this is strictly off the record.