The next day, Mina reached the office building in a fog. She tried to scan her phone at the turnstile, holding it up with blind confidence. The screen lit up with a cheerful payment prompt. The security guard gently cleared his throat and pointed at her ID card, which was hanging backward. "Oh," she whispered. She flipped it around, cheeks burning, and walked in as if she had walked through a wall.
The lobby felt too bright. Every sound echoed. Her shoes were too loud. Her thoughts were even louder. She kept seeing Isaac from last night, that brief moment when he'd leaned close, voice low, eyes soft in a way she had never allowed herself to notice before. By the time she reached her department floor, she had already convinced herself she was losing it.
