The first sign something was wrong was the silence.
Not normal silence.
Not “Adrian is busy” silence.
Not “he’s in meetings” silence.
No.
This was unsettling.
By ten in the morning, Adrian Voss had not called me into his office once.
Not once.
Which might sound healthy to literally anyone else on earth.
Unfortunately, I worked for a man who usually summoned me every twenty minutes for reasons that ranged from:
important contracts to
“sit here while I answer emails.”
So yes.
I noticed immediately.
At first, I assumed he was genuinely busy.
Then eleven o’clock came.
Still nothing.
No texts.
No calls.
No:
Elena.
No:
Where are you?
No:
Bring your laptop.
No:
Come here for a second.
No:
I require your presence because apparently I’ve forgotten how existing works with
