Elena
The morning after we returned from the trip, the office felt different. It was as though someone had gone in during the night and quietly rearranged the air, reshaped the rhythm of the building, and replaced everything with a quieter, sterner order. The first sign of it came the moment I stepped into the reception area. Clara, the CEO’s long-time assistant, was back.
She had been away for weeks, recovering from an illness, or at least that was the story I had been told. And now, she was here again, standing near the front desk with a stack of folders in her hands, already issuing instructions as though she had never left.
“Elena,” she said briskly when her gaze landed on me, her eyes narrowing slightly, not unkind but firm, measuring. “Good morning. I’ll need to see your weekly re
