The aroma of coffee still lingered on James' breath as he stepped back into the office. The usual soft hum of machines filled the air, paired with the quiet tapping of keyboards.
Then came a voice. Just a voice—low, smooth, almost whispered, but heard clearly by everyone.
"He's coming. To all departments - be where you should be. Now."
It wasn't loud, but it sliced through the room like a scalpel. Chairs scraped. Conversations vanished. Screens lit up. The office transformed from casual to clockwork in the blink of an eye.
James had been here for a month now, but he'd never seen such a reaction. Something wasn't right. Who is this person?
As he returned to his desk, he caught a glimpse through the glass near Elna's office. Aresy was leaving. Usually calm and efficient, Aresy glided out as always. But James' gaze didn't linger on her.
No, it locked on her. Through the narrowing gap of the closing door, Elna stood motionless for someone who knows her well, she looked pale and unreadable.
Was that fear?
James blinked.
No. That's impossible. Elna doesn't fear. She doesn't flinch, she commands. But for a fleeting moment, her hands trembled. Her pale fingers clutched the desk too tightly. Her jaw looked set, but her eyes... looked lost.
The door clicked shut. Locked. Everyone was busy making their part of the project look complete.
Before he could even process the image, voices began to rise from the far corridor. Footsteps. Laughter.
Then he entered.
Mr. Brohem.
Late 30s. Tailored suit. Rolex. That sleek, confident smile is designed to disarm and dominate all at once. He greeted everyone with smooth familiarity, shaking hands, nodding-too friendly for someone in power, too rehearsed to be real.
Everyone stood, some even smiled. But James noticed it clearly now.
The tension. It hung in the air like static before a lightning strike.
James straightened himself, nodding along like everyone else. But a cold weight settled in his stomach.
Neby was charming, yes. But something about him was off.
Wrong.
Almost... predatory.
James' POV (internal thought): He knows something. Or maybe he doesn't care. Either way, Elna's alone in there. Why? Where's Aresy? Why did she look—
"James, right?" someone whispered near him. It was a colleague from the testing team.
"The director was asking about you."
Snapping back to the present, James stepped forward. "Yes, sir. James Adam. I joined as Ms. Elna's assistant recently. Assisting with the new project."
Neby's smile returned, almost too warm.
"Elna never keeps people around for long. You must be special."
His words came like silk but landed like steel.
"Excuse me now," he added, brushing past. "I have business with her. Alone."
James insisted. "I can assist—since Aresy isn't—"
Neby's tone sharpened. "No interruptions. Not even for emergencies."
Then he walked away, the door to Elna's office closing behind him with a soft but final click.
Narrator POV
Everyone went back to their tasks, or at least pretended to. The room was quieter now, the atmosphere thick and stifling. No one said it out loud, but they were all thinking the same thing.
Why now?Why him?After such a long time.
James sat back at his desk but couldn't focus. His eyes flicked to the closed door again and again. She hadn't looked like that-
No. She never looked like that.
"Hey," James whispered to Henry, his curiosity was killing him. "What's the deal with that guy?"
Henry sighed.
"Brohem? He's been riding her since the start of this project. Used to come every week. Yelling about deadlines, throwing threats. She was different back then—cool, sure—but still warm, you know? She used to help everyone. GD's, team dinners, late-night debugging sessions..., for which Mr. Brohem would also have been there."
James listened, jaw tight.
"Then she launched Aresy. And after that... something changed, she started to isolate herself. No laughter, no late-night talks, nothing."
James didn't say anything. The pieces were falling into place now, slowly, painfully.
Henry leaned back in his chair, glancing toward the locked door. "They say she broke down once. Not officially. But someone heard her. Crying."
That hit harder than James expected.
James' POV (internal monologue): No. She wouldn't. Not Elna. Not the woman who once froze me solid with a single look. Not the one who made me work in the lab, night after night, just for a nod.
But then he remembered her face.
That flicker in her eyes.
The way her hands gripped the desk.
Was that fear… or pain?
And if it was pain, then how long had she been hiding it?
James exhaled sharply, forcing himself to turn away from the door and toward his screen.
She doesn't need me. Not now. Not like this. But something inside him screamed otherwise.
Behind the locked door, no one knew what was being said.
No one knew why her hands had started shaking before Neby even stepped inside.
And no one—not even James—knew what Elna had to sacrifice to protect what was hers.
But soon...He would.