The heavy mahogany door of the CEO's corner office clicked shut behind Melissa Hart, leaving her trapped in the stifling, quiet corridor of the executive floor. Sharp heels clicking violently against the polished marble floor, she marched straight toward the adjacent workstation—the desk that belonged to Sarah.
She stopped dead in her tracks, her manicured hands curling into tight fists at her sides as a deep crease formed between her meticulously sculpted eyebrows. The desk was completely barren. Not a single stray paper clip, not a half-empty coffee mug, not even a faint breath of dust disturbed the pristine surface. It was as if the person who worked there didn't actually exist—or worse, was being given special treatment that exempted her from the ordinary demands of corporate life.
