Her office is empty.
That stops me.
Not sharply. Just enough to register.
Audra’s office is never empty during core hours—not unless she’s in a meeting or across the hall mediating something that should have been handled before it reached her desk. I glance at the clock.
Late morning.
I step inside anyway. The space looks the same—order intact, desk clear, no personal clutter beyond what she allows. The absence feels louder because of it.
I frown.
Then I hear it.
Laughter.
Not hers.
Alex’s voice carries first—animated, unfiltered. Karl’s follows, lower, dry, clearly indulging him.
I step back into the hall and follow the sound.
They’re in Karl’s temporary office. Alex is leaned back in a chair, feet hooked on the edge of Karl’s desk like he owns the place. Karl stands with his sleeves rolled up, flipping through a file with exaggerated seriousness.
Alex spots me immediately.
“Oh good,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “An audience.”
Karl looks up. “This is about Rowley, isn’t it.”
“Yes,” I say. Then, “Where’s Audra.”
The air shifts—not dramatically, just enough to notice.
Karl answers without hesitation. “She’s out.”
Alex grins. “Vacation.”
I wait.
Neither of them fills the silence.
“How long,” I ask.
Karl shrugs. “Couple days.”
“Where.”
Alex’s grin widens. “Not your business.”
I look at Karl.
He doesn’t contradict that.
Something tightens in my chest—not jealousy. Displacement. The unfamiliar sensation of not having access in my own building.
I set the folder on Karl’s desk.
