Monday came in bright, which felt like an insult after Friday’s rain.
Ann was at work before eight, last night still sitting in her body like a sentence no one would finish. Mikel passed her with a folder and a nod that could have belonged to anyone.
She returned the gesture. That was the arrangement now: work, distance, and no more almost-moments.
Evan arrived with coffee again, two cups and a smile that looked practiced for better surroundings. “You look buried,” he said. “The midweek preview is a mess. I can take the slides if you want, I’ve done this circuit before. You’d still get the credit.”
Ann kept typing. “I don’t need a favor.”
“It’s not a favor, it’s hygiene. People are watching this desk, if your slides look rushed, they will not blame the intern track. They will blame t
