Marian stood for a moment just outside the glass doors, fingers tightening around the strap of her bag.
The building hummed behind her—keycards chiming, heels clicking against polished floors, voices drifting in clipped professional tones. It was the familiar rhythm of a place that never paused for personal revelations, never slowed to accommodate private unraveling. Life moved forward here, relentlessly indifferent.
She drew in a slow breath before stepping inside, willing her heart to settle, her expression to smooth into something neutral.
Professional.
Normal.
As she walked toward the elevators, she felt it almost immediately—the subtle shift in the air. Conversations didn’t stop this time. They bent instead, lowering just enough to be polite, not enough to be discreet.
“So that
