The door closed, leaving behind silence, the air thick with lingering fear and sorrow. Hannah exhaled shakily, stepping closer.
"Jean… are you okay?" Jean nodded, though her hands still trembled slightly.
The office felt heavy with the echo of Morris's words. Jean stood still for a moment, palms pressed lightly on her desk, her breathing shaky but controlled. Hannah lingered by her side, eyes full of worry.
"Jean… maybe we should call Logan," Hannah suggested softly, her hand hovering near Jean's arm. "You need him right now."
Jean shook her head, the blonde strands brushing against her cheeks.
"No," she whispered, gathering the papers scattered on her desk, her movements deliberate. "If I call him, he'll rush over and leave everything. I don't want that."
She paused, eyes lingering on the door Morris had stormed out of, her mind replaying his haunted face.
"I'll go to him," She decided, her voice steadier now. "It's better if I talk to him in person."
