The knock came softly at first—one, two, three taps that barely broke through the quiet hum of the air conditioner.
I frowned, lifting my gaze from the glowing screen. The office was nearly dark, save for the laptop screen casting a warm circle of light over the scattered papers. It was past nine. Most of the staff had gone home hours ago.
Another knock came, this time firmer.
I blinked at the wall of my office. The city lights shimmered behind the blinds. A prickle ran down my spine.
“Come in,” I said quietly, my voice rough from hours of silence.
The door creaked open.
For a second, I didn’t look up. I didn’t want to. Part of me was afraid it might be Cameron again—ready for round two, ready to twist the knife deeper. My fingers froze on the keyboard. My heartbeat kicked up.
Then
