Anna stood paralyzed, her feet rooted to the carpet as she locked eyes with Anthony. He didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He just watched her, his gaze heavy and unreadable, pinned her to the spot.
“Sit, please,” the other interviewer prompted. The voice snapped the invisible thread holding her gaze to Anthony’s. Anna nodded frantically, her movements jerky as she took her seat. Under the table, she laced her fingers together so tightly her knuckles turned white, trying to force her breathing into a steady rhythm. Having him in the room felt like trying to breathe in a vacuum.
“I must say, Ms. Anna, I am impressed with your designs. They are unique,” another interviewer noted, leaning forward. “Where do you get your inspiration from?”
“I… I…” The word caught in her throat. Her mind,
