The office always shifted when Ms. Byrd walked in. Not dramatically — just enough to be felt. A few heads lifted. A few smiles appeared. Someone whispered, “Morning, Ms. Byrd,” with the kind of warmth that came from respect, not fear. Kya returned the greetings with a soft nod, her expression calm and unreadable. She reached her office and spotted the folder waiting on her desk.
Elena Carney — Revised Proposal (Final Draft)
Kya exhaled. Round two. Let’s see. She opened the folder. She didn’t even finish the first page before a sharp knock rattled her door.
“Ms. Byrd?” Elena’s voice was tight, brittle. “Do you have a moment?”
Kya looked up. Elena stood in the doorway, posture stiff, jaw clenched, eyes already defensive. She clutched her tablet like she was bracing for impact.
“Come in,
