It’s instinct.
And right now, it’s loud.
I adjust the cuffs of my shirt and head for my office, jaw clenched, trying to shake it off. Maybe it’s just the lingering tension from yesterday. The look on Sara’s face when I walked out. The way her voice cracked when she whispered my name and I didn’t turn back.
But this? This is different.
This is work. And this is as bad as a fuse burning somewhere under the floorboards.
Emily’s sitting at her desk when I round the corner, poised, professional, as calm and composed as always. But even she won’t meet my eyes the way she usually does.
“Morning,” I say, stopping at her desk.
She looks up, offering a smile that’s just a little too tight. “Good morning, Mr. Ashford.”
“Everything all right?”
Her fingers twitch over the keyboard. “Yes, of course. Just a reminder, you’ve got a check-in with legal at nine-thirty.”
I narrow my eyes. “Anything else I should know?”
A beat. A slight hesitation, almost imperceptible. But it’s there.
“No, sir,” she says, too fast.
Bullshit.
My gut twists, a knot tightening in my stomach.
I glance at Sara’s desk. Empty.
Her screen is dark. Her coffee mug, the one with the “Let’s Circle Back Never” quote, hasn’t made its usual place on her desk.
I check the time.
It’s 8:04.
Sara’s never late.
I keep my tone casual. “Has Sara been in yet?”
Emily hesitates, the silence stretching between us.
“I’m not sure,” she answers, a little too deliberately. “She may be working remotely today.”
May be.No confirmation. No details.
Just more half-answers and an undertone I can’t ignore.
Something’s definitely off.
I take a final scan of the floor as I head to my office, and everything is different. The air’s thick, the weight of eyes on me. The buzz of whispers has a taste of smoke.
They’re talking about me.
I slam the door behind me harder than I mean to and drag a hand down my face. The pounding in my temples is brutal, and my thoughts are a jumbled mess.
The only thing louder than the blood rushing in my ears is the echo of Sara’s voice from yesterday.