**DEREK POV**
I expect anger.
I prepare for it the way I always do. I rehearse responses meant to absorb impact. I line up justifications I will not lead with but will have ready if needed. I brace for raised voices, sharp words, accusations that bleed into the room and demand immediate containment.
I tell myself anger would be simpler.
Anger has momentum. It burns hot, then cools. It can be redirected, soothed, answered. Anger is loud enough that everyone knows where it lives.
So when you walk in and there is none of it, I am wrong-footed immediately.
You don’t hesitate at the door. You don’t pause to scan the room or assess my posture. You take the chair across from my desk without being offered it, set your hands flat on the table, and look directly at me.
Calm.
Focused.
There
