David’s POV
She was different today. Quieter. Still.
Susan had always been composed, every movement graceful, every word measured, but this morning there was something else—an unnatural stillness, as though even breathing cost her effort. Her skin looked paler against the soft cream of her blouse, and the steady rhythm of her typing was slower, each keystroke deliberate.
I’d brought her coffee earlier—extra caramel, exactly how she liked it. She hadn’t touched it. That was my first warning sign.
I was halfway through a video conference with the Seoul board when I glanced through the glass wall of my office. She was hunched slightly forward, one hand clutching her stomach. Her face tightened with pain before she forced it into a neutral mask.
I cut the call in thirty seconds flat. D
