“…silly…”
Each word struck like a chisel.
A mercilessclick. They were gone.
Silence flooded the room, hollow and exposed.
My heel bounced beneath the table. A tremor chased itself down my hands. I stood too quickly and the floor tilted, just long enough to remind me where I was.
Jennifer caught my arm. “Hey.”
“I’m fine.” I eased free. “Just lost my balance.”
She lingered, eyes searching. “I’ve got another meeting,” she said gently. A kindness dressed as routine. “Mind if I head out?”
“Of course.”
She slipped away. I waited a beat, then followed into the corridor. Office chatter hummed around me—too normal, too loud—out of sync with the unraveling inside my chest.
The bathroom was closer than my office.
I ducked inside and locked the door.
The sink was cool beneath my palms. Porcelain bit back. My reflection wavered in the mirror—pale, unfocused, unfamiliar.
Not here.
Not now.
My breath stalled halfway in.
Pressure gathered deep in my chest. Coiling tighter. Higher.
Until panic crested—sudden and absolute.
“Oh, god.”
Sound crowded in. Margaret’s pen. Davidson’s laugh. Harrison’s voice—stacking, overlapping, too close.
Older voices surfaced beneath them, ones I’d learned to bury.
Harsh light. Damp cheeks. Numb fingers.
I twisted the faucet on. Cold water splashed my skin again and again, shock cutting through the spiral.
Eventually, I straightened.
I was Emma Sinclair. CEO of Elion.
And I needed to hold it together.
Chapter 3
***
Sarah’s kindness waited beside my inbox the next morning. A steaming coffee. A cheese Danish, its sweetness curling through the air.
An apology she didn’t owe me.
