Monday morning Priya comes in with the expression of someone carrying something they have been holding since Friday.
I see it the moment she walks into my office, which is mine now, properly mine, my name on the glass and my things on the desk and the particular satisfaction of a space that fits.
"Sit down," I say before she speaks.
She sits. Puts her coffee on my desk. Looks at me.
"Declan is leaving."
I go still. "When did you find out?"
"Friday evening," she says. "He handed Helena his notice. He has taken a creative director role at a competitor. Effective in four weeks."
Four weeks.
I sit back.
Declan Ward, creative lead, the other half of the senior team, the person whose work I have been absorbing and assessing since Saturday's coffee, gone in four weeks
