I don't realize how exhausted I am until I shut the front door behind me and the sound echoes through the house.
It sounds so loud and empty. Well that's what living in a big ass house feels like.
The office ran long. Meetings stacked on meetings. My father's voice still ringing in my skull. Consequences, shares, reputation. I handled it. I always do. That part of my life is easy. Clean lines. Clear threats. Predictable reactions.
This house should be a relief.
Instead, it feels… off.
I drop my keys on the side table instead of the tray, and stand there for a second longer than necessary, listening. No movement. No voices. No music drifting from somewhere upstairs. No soft sounds from the kitchen.
She's not in the common areas.
I don't know why that bothers me as much as it does.
I walk further in, loosening my tie, rolling my shoulders once like I can physically shake the tension loose. The lights are on, but the place feels untouched. Mrs. Klein must've left hours ago.
