Liana’s POV
The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding that echoed too loud in my head.
I stepped out onto my floor, heading towards Graham's office, the carpet muffling my heels.
The air smelled like stale coffee and printer toner, it was familiar, but today it felt thick, like breathing through a mask. Heads turned as I passed cubicles. Whispers followed, low and buzzing like flies around rot.
I blamed myself for this walk.
If I hadn’t said yes to Raphael’s coffee this morning. If I hadn’t let his shy smile and gentle kiss pull me away from my plan. If I’d stuck to the script from my first life, with my head down, no distractions, no changes, I wouldn’t be here now, marching to Graham’s office like a lamb heading to the slaughter house.
I cannot afford to be distracted, I keep
