As soon as Vivian entered, the chief’s fingers stilled. Her sharp eyes flicked up, and without a word, she closed the laptop with a decisive snap. Adjusting her chair with the slow precision of someone who never rushed, she motioned to the chair in front of her desk.
“Sit,” she said, her voice cool and clipped.
Vivian hesitated for a fraction of a second before crossing the room. The leather chair creaked softly as she sat, her hands clasping tightly in her lap. There was something in the chief’s demeanor that set her on edge. It wasn’t just the odd timing of the meeting—it was the way the older woman looked at her, as though weighing her every move, her every breath.
“You called for me at a very odd hour, Chief,” Vivian said, trying to keep her tone neutral, though curiosity and unease
