"You look stressed, Miss Wilson. Is there a problem?" Mr. Atticus asked me. His eyes were focused on mine, trying to gauge out the reason of my stress. But I had none.
"Stress? I have no stress, Sir." I said with a small chuckle and his eyes narrowed in displeasure. He didn't believe me.
"Then why haven't you been answering me, Miss Wilson? I have been calling you from past ten minutes. There must be something that caught your attention enough to not answer me. So tell me what is it?" He asked me and I blinked in response.
But I wasn't stressed. I was thinking about my life. About people I once used to stay with. And it was just a random thought. A thought that crossed my mind out of nowhere.
"I was lost in my thoughts. I beg your pardon, Sir. Can you repeat what you were saying?" I
