Eleanor's POV
The sterile office air felt suffocating. Mira was perched on the edge of my desk, her arms crossed, a storm brewing in her eyes.
"Eleanor, what is going on with you?" she demanded, her voice a low, frustrated hiss. "You've been ghosting me these days. I know you're hiding something. I can feel it."
I kept my eyes glued to my computer screen, pretending to be engrossed in a spreadsheet. "I'm not hiding anything, Mira. I've just been… busy."
"Busy?" She reached out and grabbed my hand, yanking it away from the keyboard. The movement was so sudden, the diamond on my finger caught the fluorescent light, sending a cheap, glittering spark across the room. "Busy getting engaged? To who, Eleanor? How did I miss this part?"
I stared at the ring. I'd completely forgotten I keep wearing it. It felt like a shackle, a grotesque reminder of the nightmare at my parents' house.
"It's… it's Dickson," I mumbled, the admission tasting like ash.
