The next morning arrived quietly, the soft glow of dawn spilling through the curtains of their peaceful home. The air held a gentle calmness, broken only by the faint clatter of dishes in the kitchen.
Saphirra stood at the counter, her hair loosely tied back, focused on the small details of preparing breakfast. The skillet sizzled softly as she fried eggs, the aroma of toasted bread filling the room. Beside the stove, a neatly packed lunch box waited—today's careful arrangement of rice, vegetables, and meat she had seasoned the night before. She always made sure Travier's meals looked balanced, not just out of duty, but out of habit —perhaps even love she couldn't quite name anymore. And yet, there was also something that made her doubt her relationship with Travier.
Travier entered the kitchen with the ease of routine, his hair still damp from his shower, his shirt tucked crisply into his slacks. He paused for a moment, leaning against the doorframe, watching her move around the kitchen with quiet efficiency. Something about the simplicity of it—the way she focused, the small crease of concentration on her forehead—made him smile faintly.
"Morning," he greeted, his voice low but warm.
Saphirra turned slightly, offering him a soft smile. "Morning. Breakfast will be ready in a minute. You should sit."
He obeyed, pulling out a chair at the dining table. As he sat, his eyes landed on the lunch box on the counter. For a brief moment, his expression flickered—something unreadable passed through his eyes—but then it was gone, replaced by a calm smile when Saphirra placed breakfast before him.
They ate in comfortable silence, the clink of utensils and the soft rustle of the morning breeze filling the room. Saphirra didn't press him with questions, and Travier didn't offer more than small comments about the food. It wasn't awkward, but it wasn't brimming with conversation either. It was simply... them.
Once the plates were cleared, Saphirra wiped her hands on a small towel before carefully placing the lunch box into his bag. She closed it neatly, patting it once as if sealing away her own unspoken hope that this time, he would actually eat it.
Travier rose from his chair, smoothing his coat. He moved toward her and, without hesitation, wrapped his arms around her shoulders in a brief hug. The embrace was light but steady, his lips brushing her temple in a small kiss.
"I'll see you later," he murmured, pulling back slightly to meet her eyes.
Saphirra nodded, her smile polite yet genuine. "Take care. Don't skip your meals."
His lips curved faintly upward, though he didn't respond to the last part. Instead, he gave her shoulder one last squeeze before picking up his bag and heading toward the door.
Saphirra followed him with her eyes until the door closed behind him, the sound of the door clicking softly in the quiet house as soon as it was closed. She lingered in the silence, her hand still resting on the table.
The moment the door closed behind Travier, and the faint sound of Ms. Travez's car pulling away drifted into silence, Saphirra exhaled deeply. Her eyes lingered on the empty hallway, as if confirming once more that he was truly gone. Then, without wasting another second, she walked briskly upstairs and headed inside their shared bedroom, then toward her study corner where her laptop was waiting.
She powered it on, the screen's glow reflecting on her focused face, and quickly connected the printer. Her hands moved with precision as she opened the documents Laren had sent her the night before. The faint whir of the printer soon filled the room, paper after paper sliding neatly into the tray.
Saphirra picked up each page with care, stacking them together in perfect order. Her eyes scanned over the contents—agreements, schedules, nondisclosure forms. Every detail mattered. She didn't want even the smallest mistake to make her look unprepared.
When the last paper was printed, she pressed them flat against the desk, aligning the edges. Then she slipped them carefully into a leather folder, the kind Travier had once gifted her years ago. For a second, her lips curved in a wistful smile at the irony, but the thought quickly vanished as determination settled back into her eyes.
Satisfied with the papers, she turned toward her wardrobe. She needed to look presentable—not just as herself, but as someone worthy of standing inside Aetherion Technology Corporation, the company led by one of the most brilliant figures in the industry.
Her hand hovered over the hangers before settling on a fitted black pencil skirt. She held it up, the fabric sleek and professional, then laid it neatly on the bed. Next, she chose a crisp white long-sleeve blouse, the kind that tucked smoothly beneath the skirt, accentuating a clean, formal silhouette.
After picking her formal attire, she grabbed a towel and headed inside the bathroom to take a quick shower. It didn't take too long when she finished and wiped herself dry before she dressed. She made sure to adjust the cuffs and smoothed the fabric, making sure there were no creases.
She walked to the mirror, fastening a slim black belt around her waist to complete the look. The skirt reached just below her knees, conservative yet elegant. She slipped on a pair of modest black heels—not too high, just enough to give her presence.
Saphirra tied her hair into a low bun, tucking loose strands behind her ear. Her makeup was minimal, just a touch of powder, a hint of blush, and a light shade on her lips. She didn't want to appear flashy—only neat, prepared, and serious.
Finally, she laid out everything on the table: her leather folder filled with documents, her ID, a pen, and a small notebook. She went through the checklist twice, tapping each item gently with her finger as if imprinting its importance in her mind.
Once everything was accounted for, she slid them into her black handbag. She zipped it carefully, checked the lock on her folder again, and gave a small nod to herself.
Glancing at the clock, she realized she had just enough time to arrive without rushing. She slipped on her blazer, lifted her bag onto her shoulder, and walked to the door. Her hand paused briefly on the doorknob. For a second, she wondered what Travier would think if he saw her dressed this way—not as the housewife he left at home, but as someone chasing a path he didn't want her to take.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she shook the thought away. This was her choice, and she shouldn't expect him to be happy about her decision. With that, she finally stepped out of their shared bedroom and headed downstairs. Without turning back, she stepped out of the house.
The moment she stepped out of the house, she felt her shoulder so light, it felt like she was now able to be free from her own shell, to be able to come out and do what she truly loves.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out, she locked the door behind her. The metallic click sounded final, like a seal on her decision. She walked down the steps toward her car that was parked in front of their house, her heels tapping softly against the pavement. Her car sat waiting in the morning light, its surface gleaming faintly. She unlocked it, slipped inside, and set her bag on the passenger seat, her fingers brushing over the leather folder one more time before starting the engine.
The road ahead felt both daunting and exhilarating. 'Today was the first step. '
Saphirra gripped the steering wheel a little tighter as the cityscape blurred past her windows. The folder in her bag seemed to weigh more than it should, pulling at her thoughts. What if they asked her technical questions on the spot? She ran through possible scenarios in her head—questions about programming languages, system security, and new tools she had recently researched. She rehearsed answers silently, her lips moving faintly as if speaking them out loud. It wasn't just about passing papers. She wanted to be ready, prepared for anything.
The hum of the car engine and the rhythm of traffic lights kept her grounded. Whenever doubt crept in, she reminded herself of Kairie's words: 'Follow what your heart wants'. That became her mantra during the drive.
By the time the sleek glass towers of Aetherion Technology Corporation came into view, her heart skipped. The building rose against the sky like a statement of dominance, its polished surface reflecting sunlight. Even from the outside, it radiated power and innovation.
She parked in the visitor's lot and stepped out of her car, straightening her blazer before reaching for her bag. Her heels clicked softly against the pavement as she approached the entrance, each step measured and purposeful.
The lobby was vast, modern, and filled with the faint hum of conversations.LED screens on the walls displayed flashes of Aetherion's projects—cutting-edge software, futuristic gadgets, and international partnerships. Saphirra barely had time to take it all in when she noticed movement near the elevator.
Out stepped Laren.
His eyes landed on her almost immediately, and his lips curved into a wide smile. Without hesitation, he jogged toward her, his hand raised in greeting.
"Saphirra! You're early," he said, slightly out of breath but clearly pleased.
Saphirra let out a soft chuckle, her nerves easing a little at his familiar presence. "I just wanted to get this over with. You know, pass everything while I still have the courage. That way, if I suddenly change my mind, at least I won't be able to take it back."
Laren laughed, a low, genuine sound that echoed lightly in the high-ceilinged lobby. He shook his head in amusement, eyes sparkling. "That's a very... Saphirra thing to say. But trust me, you won't regret it. Once you step inside, you'll see why Aetherion is worth it."
He motioned for her to follow, then pointed toward the elevator he had just stepped out of. They both walked back, and as the sleek silver doors closed behind them, the quiet hum of the elevator filled the space.
Curious, Saphirra tilted her head and asked, "By the way... where were you headed before you saw me?"
Laren leaned back casually, his hands tucked into his pockets, giving her a side glance. "Oh, I was about to grab some coffee at the café near the entrance. Morning routine, you know. But that can wait. Right now, it's more important that I assist you."
His tone was light, almost teasing, but the sincerity beneath it was clear. He was prioritizing her.
Saphirra got confused at first, since she didn't notice that there was a coffee counter stall near the entrance, before nodding slowly.
Saphirra's chest warmed slightly at his thoughtfulness, though she quickly looked away, pretending to be more interested in the floor numbers lighting up above the elevator door. "I see... I didn't mean to interrupt."
"You didn't," Laren said firmly, his smile softening. "Actually, I'm glad you came when you did. Makes my day a little better."
The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open to reveal a sleek hallway that led toward the executive offices. Laren gestured politely for her to step out first, his demeanor effortlessly professional yet friendly.
For Saphirra, each step forward felt heavier than the last, not because she doubted herself anymore, but because she knew she was crossing into a world that Travier never wanted her to enter.
But she kept walking.
It didn't take too long before the elevator softly chimed, signaling their arrival at the thirteenth floor. The doors slid open, revealing a hallway that radiated authority and elegance—glass walls framed in steel, muted gray carpets that hushed every step, and subtle lighting that gave the whole space a calm yet powerful atmosphere.
Saphirra followed closely behind Laren, her heels sinking into the carpet as he led her toward his office. A golden nameplate gleamed on the polished door: Laren Veyre – Senior Development Manager. He tapped the security panel, the lock clicked open, and he held the door wide for her.
Inside, his office was a balance between modern minimalism and quiet luxury. A broad desk sat near the wide windows, which overlooked the sprawling city below. Neatly stacked documents lined one corner, and two monitors glowed faintly on the desk, displaying lines of code and project schedules. An empty coffee mug sat to the side.
"Please, make yourself comfortable," Laren said warmly, gesturing toward the visitor's chair in front of his desk.
Saphirra nodded, moving with composed steps, though her fingers tightened on the strap of her bag. As soon as she sat down, she pulled out the brown envelope she had guarded so carefully, the one carrying her schedule and necessary hard copies. With both hands, she handed it to him across the desk.
Laren accepted it with a professional air, though his expression softened as he looked at her. He slid the envelope open and began pulling out the documents. His eyes scanned over them quickly, his brows drawing together as he checked every detail with practiced precision.
Saphirra clasped her hands in her lap, her heart thumping against her ribs as the silence stretched between them. She couldn't help but watch his expression, waiting for any sign—approval, disapproval, or curiosity.
Laren turned the page, nodding faintly. "Your schedule..." he murmured, tapping the neatly printed copy with his finger. "Organized. Clean. I'll make sure to coordinate it with our team here, so we won't clash with your current commitments at Soun Company."
He glanced up at her then, offering a small, reassuring smile. "You did well. These documents are complete—more than enough for us to proceed. Honestly, I've seen full-time applicants bring less preparation than this."
Saphirra let out a small breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her shoulders relaxed slightly as she returned his smile. "I just... wanted to be sure. If I were going to do this, I wanted to do it properly."
Laren leaned back in his chair, envelope still open on the desk, and for a moment, he simply studied her—his expression thoughtful, almost impressed.
"You really mean it this time, don't you?" he said softly. "You're ready to step into Aetherion's world."
Those words carried weight, and for a heartbeat, Saphirra felt the truth of them sink in.
Laren carefully slid the envelope aside, a genuine smile curving his lips. "Congratulations, Saphirra," he said warmly, his voice carrying both pride and encouragement. "From here on, you're officially part of Aetherion Technology Corporation. You can start as soon as I finalize this schedule with the HR team. Once that's settled, I'll make sure your hours perfectly align with your current commitments at Soun. No unnecessary stress."
Saphirra's lips parted slightly, her heart thudding with a mix of relief and excitement. She pressed her hands together in her lap and bowed her head just enough to show respect. "Thank you, Mr. Laren. Really, thank you. I didn't expect this to happen so quickly."
"You've earned it," he replied without hesitation, his gaze steady. "This isn't charity, Saphirra. I saw what you were capable of before, when you helped us—even without training, you handled things with confidence and instinct. That's rare. Don't forget that."
Her chest tightened at his words, a warm flicker of pride blooming inside her, though her cheeks flushed faintly. She lowered her eyes to avoid the intensity of his gaze, murmuring another quiet "Thank you."
Laren stood then, straightening his tie, and gestured toward the door. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll just grab a coffee downstairs. I've been running since morning, and I need it before I collapse. Feel free to make yourself comfortable here while I'm gone."
Saphirra gave a small nod, her smile polite. "Of course. Take your time."
When the door clicked shut behind him, silence draped over the office.
For the first time, Saphirra allowed herself to lean back against the cushioned chair, her fingers lightly brushing against the smooth wood of the armrest. She let her eyes wander around the room—the tidy stacks of folders labeled in neat handwriting, the dual monitors glowing faintly, the faint reflection of the city skyline through the wide windows. It was simple, orderly, and professional. She also noticed a few inventions; others were complete, while a few were still unfinished. She stared at it for a while before looking back at the desk full of papers.
Her chest rose and fell as she inhaled deeply, the faint scent of old paper, coffee, and polished wood mixing in the air.
She swallowed, her lips curling into the smallest smile. So this is what it feels like... to be inside a real office, part of something greater than just make-up brushes and studio lights.
Her heart swelled with a quiet determination. For so many years, she had locked away this side of herself—the curiosity for technology, the hunger to learn, the dream to stand in a place like this. She thought of Travier then. His face flickered in her mind: his warm smile, the way he hugged her every morning before leaving. Guilt pricked at her chest—she hadn't told him about this, hadn't shared this step she was about to take.
But she shook her head lightly. No. This is for both of us... for our future.
Before her thoughts could drift further, the sound of the door opening pulled her back.
Laren re-entered the office with a cup of coffee in one hand and a small paper bag in the other. His steps were brisk, yet relaxed, as if this were just another ordinary day for him. Setting the items down on the desk, he opened the bag and pulled out two neatly wrapped pastries.
"Got these while I was downstairs," he said casually, pushing one across the desk toward her. "Thought you might like something to go with the wait."
Saphirra quickly raised her hands, shaking her head with a polite smile. "Oh, no, thank you. I'm fine, really."
Laren arched a brow, lips quirking in faint amusement. "You sure? These are from the café downstairs. Their best-sellers, apparently."
"I appreciate it," she said softly, "but I had breakfast not too long ago. I don't want to waste it."
"Fair enough," he said, not pressing further. With a shrug, he set the pastry aside and unwrapped his own, taking a bite before reaching for his coffee. Steam rose as he took a slow sip, his shoulders relaxing slightly.
After a moment of quiet, he placed the cup down and leaned forward, folding his hands on the desk. "Now... let's talk a bit about what you'll be stepping into." His tone shifted to something more professional, though his gaze remained warm and approachable.
Saphirra straightened in her seat, nodding attentively.
"At Aetherion," Laren began, "we specialize in advanced software development and integrated technology systems. That ranges from AI-driven applications to cybersecurity frameworks, and even prototypes that combine programming with physical hardware." He paused, studying her reaction. "It may sound overwhelming at first, but you'll ease into it. No one expects you to build an entire program on your first day."
Saphirra chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wouldn't even know where to start if they did."
Laren smiled. "That's where I come in. You'll start with shadowing—sitting in on smaller projects, learning the basics of the systems we use. You'll have the freedom to observe, ask questions, and eventually assist in testing and documentation. Think of it as an apprenticeship, but with real-world exposure."
Her heart quickened. "That... actually sounds incredible."
"It will be," Laren said firmly, sincerity clear in his tone. "And once I finish my coffee, I'll give you a short tour of the building. Show you where the different departments are, and introduce you to a few key people. It'll help you get a feel of the environment before you officially begin."
Saphirra nodded, her smile small but genuine, excitement building beneath her calm exterior. "Thank you, Laren. For... everything."
Laren waved a hand lightly, brushing off her gratitude. "Don't thank me yet. Save that for when you've survived your first month." His tone carried a playful edge, though his eyes gleamed with something else—respect.
Saphirra exhaled softly, gripping her bag a little tighter on her lap, her heart brimming with a mix of nerves and anticipation.
Laren had only managed to drink half of his coffee when a sudden noise echoed from the hallway—a sharp, raised voice cutting through the otherwise professional silence of the 13th floor. The sound was so out of place in the orderly environment of Aetherion that both Saphirra and Laren instinctively turned their heads toward the door.
The yelling grew clearer, more distinct, each word vibrating with anger. Saphirra froze, her hands tightening over her bag in her lap. Laren's jaw tightened, his earlier relaxed composure vanishing in an instant. He let out a slow, controlled breath and set his coffee cup down, the porcelain making the faintest clink against the desk.
"Excuse me for a moment," he murmured, his voice calm but edged with tension.
He rose swiftly, shoulders squared, and walked toward the door. The moment he opened it, he didn't close it fully behind him; instead, the door remained slightly ajar, a narrow sliver between the frame that allowed sound to filter through.
Saphirra didn't mean to eavesdrop—but the voice that carried through made her spine stiffen immediately.
It was a voice she recognized. A familiar one.
Mr. Flame.
She couldn't see him, but the weight of his presence filled the air even from a distance. His tone was sharp, commanding, heavy with a cold fury that demanded silence from anyone in its path.
"I told you—this was the last time!" Mr. Flame's words cut like steel, low yet brimming with restrained rage. "You had one task. One!"
A muffled sob followed. Saphirra's chest tightened at the tone of Mr. Flame, and a muffled sob came from a woman.
"Sir, I—" the woman's voice cracked, trembling with both fear and shame.
"Enough." The single word was a dagger, merciless. "You're done here. Pack your things. I won't repeat myself."
A moment later, the sound of hurried footsteps and the faint shuffle of papers could be heard. Through the thin crack of the door, Saphirra caught a glimpse of movement: a woman rushing past, her eyes swollen with tears, clutching documents hastily gathered to her chest.
Laren's voice came next, firm but carrying a note of concern. "Mr. Flame... what happened? Why is your secretary crying like that?"
There was a pause, followed by the unmistakable edge of disdain in Mr. Flame's reply. "She was incompetent. Messed up with the documents, delayed progress, and nearly jeopardized a client meeting. I don't keep people who can't handle precision. She's fired."
Laren inhaled sharply, opening his mouth as if to argue, but before he could even form a word, Mr. Flame's voice sliced through again, brooking no debate.
"Don't waste your breath defending her. Instead, prepare yourself. You'll be attending the board meeting with me—30 minutes from now. Be ready."
The authority in his tone was absolute. It wasn't a request; it was an order, final and unchallengeable.
Laren fell silent. After a moment, his quiet reply came. "...Understood."
Saphirra's heart beat faster as she sat frozen in her chair, listening to the exchange with bated breath. The air outside seemed to shift, thick with a tension that seeped through the door and into the office itself.
Footsteps echoed—measured, purposeful. Mr. Flame walked away, his presence lingering even after the sound of his stride faded down the hall.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then Laren appeared again, pushing the door fully open this time. He stepped inside with a heavy sigh, one hand running across the back of his neck as though the weight of the conversation bore down on him. His usually composed features were shadowed with frustration and weariness, though he masked it quickly when his eyes met Saphirra's.
"Sorry about that," he said, forcing a small, tight smile. "Things can get... intense here sometimes."
But his tone, his stiff shoulders, and the slight crease in his brow told a different story—one that Saphirra quietly noted but chose not to press.
Instead, she simply nodded, her fingers curling against her skirt as she whispered, "It's alright."
Inside, however, her mind was a whirl. The sound of Mr. Flame's voice still echoed in her ears, sharp and unforgettable. Serious. Mad. Dangerous. Now she wonders if working here, even if it's only a part-time job, is really worth trying here.
Laren moved back to his desk, sinking into his chair, though his sigh escaped again, quieter this time, like a burden he couldn't shake off. He took another sip of his coffee—though it was more to fill the silence than for the taste—and glanced briefly at Saphirra.
For her part, Saphirra straightened slightly, her expression calm, but inside, her instincts sharpened. She had always known Mr. Flame was a powerful figure and a demanding CEO after the last conversation she had with him... but now, hearing the sheer force of his anger firsthand, she realized something else.
Laren straightened his posture again and moved closer to the table, pulling a few documents toward him. His expression, though a little strained from the earlier encounter with Mr. Flame, softened when his attention returned to Saphirra.
"Now," he began, his tone regaining its professional edge, "about your part-time placement—we'll need to discuss how your hours can align with our project cycles, and which department head you'll be reporting to directly, since Mr. Flame doesn't have a secretary now. It only means that I will be the one who will be assigned as his secretary for the meantime, which also means that I can't accompany you during your part-time here."
Saphirra is a bit disappointed since she thought that she wouldn't have any problem making friends if Laren were around. But it seems things aren't going as she planned.
"I want to make sure your transition here is smooth, especially since you're balancing responsibilities at Soun, so I'll make sure that someone will be able to teach you while I'm busy. But rest assured that I'll soon take you under my wings as soon as Mr. Flame finds a new secretary..."
But his words trailed off suddenly.
His hand shifted to his abdomen, and a low grunt escaped his throat before he could stop it. His brows furrowed, and he pressed his palm harder against his stomach as though trying to steady himself.
Saphirra's eyes widened. "Mr. Laren? Are you alright?"
He forced a faint, tight smile and shook his head quickly, though the discomfort was obvious in his strained posture. "Apologies... this is very unprofessional of me," he muttered, voice low. "I must've eaten something that isn't sitting well. Excuse me for just a moment."
Before she could say anything else, he pushed back his chair and stood. The movement was a little stiff, a little hurried, his hand still clutching his stomach. He gave her the briefest nod, trying to mask his condition behind a polite facade, and then stepped out of the office, closing the door gently behind him.
The silence that followed made the room feel suddenly larger.
Saphirra sat there, slightly confused and unsure. Laren had looked fine just minutes ago. Her gaze wandered almost instinctively, scanning the office—until it landed on the paper cup sitting at the edge of the desk.
The coffee.
The cardboard sleeve is slipping slightly down its side. Something about it made her pause. Slowly, she leaned forward and picked it up.
She tilted the cup slightly, bringing it closer. That's when she caught it—a faint, unpleasant undertone hidden beneath the rich aroma of coffee. It wasn't strong, but it was there. Stale. Sour. Wrong.
Her eyes narrowed. The scent was faint but unmistakable, like coffee brewed from beans that had long passed their shelf life.
She quickly set the cup back down, her mind piecing it together. The way Laren suddenly held his stomach, the timing, the paper cup—it wasn't pastry from earlier. It was this. The paper cup doesn't seem to come from the Cafe, but it looks like it comes from a dusty drawer. She wondered where Laren had taken this from and why it had expired.
Saphirra sank back into her chair, lips pressed in a thin line. A ripple of concern spread through her chest.
So it was the coffee... she thought, her fingers curling slightly on her lap.
Her gaze drifted once more to the door, her ears straining for the sound of footsteps in the hall, probably the other staff walking back and forth to who knows what work they are doing.
Saphirra was still staring at the paper cup; her thoughts went back to the weight of her decision to join Aetherion. Her mind was so tangled that the sharp buzz of her phone startled her, pulling her back to the present.
She quickly grabbed it from her bag and pressed it against her ear.
"Hello—?"
Laren's voice came through, slightly strained, but still carrying his usual polite tone. "Saphirra, I'm sorry for this sudden favor," he began, each word sounding as though he was both rushed and in discomfort. "But the meeting with Mr. Flame is about to start. He's expecting me there."
Saphirra straightened in her seat, her grip tightening on the phone. "Wait—you mean right now?"
"Yes," he replied without hesitation, though his breath betrayed his unease. "I don't think I can make it in time... and I trust you. Can you take my place just for this one? Don't worry, you don't need to speak. Just go with the flow, sit in for me, and jot down notes about the meeting. That's all I ask."
Her eyes widened, panic creeping in. "Mr. Laren, I—"
But before she could finish, his voice pressed on, almost in a rush. "The meeting room is on the seventeenth floor, near Mr. Flame's office. Don't be late. Please."
And then—click.
The call ended.
Saphirra froze. She slowly lowered the phone from her ear, staring at the screen as though it had betrayed her. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
She replayed his words in her mind, each one striking like a heavy drumbeat: Take his place. Just go with the flow. Jot down notes.
Her heart skipped uncomfortably. She wasn't ready for this. Not at all. She wasn't even an official employee yet—she had only just passed the documents. And now, she was being pushed into a meeting on the seventeenth floor, a place much closer to him.
Her gaze shifted to the door, her pulse quickening. The air in the office felt heavier now, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were reminding her of the weight of the favor she'd just been asked to carry.
She sat there for a moment longer, motionless, still staring at her phone screen as though waiting for it to light up again. But it didn't. The silence pressed in.
Finally, she exhaled shakily and whispered to herself, "What did I just get myself into...?"