The door clicked softly behind Sarah and Benicio, leaving behind a silence that felt unnaturally loud. James sat frozen like a statue in his seat behind his desk, watching the door even after it closed. There was a faint tremor in his chest—a potent blend of unease and guilt that pulsed stronger with every beat.
Edward hadn't moved either. He watched Sarah and Benicio depart, his brow furrowed. Turning to James, he asked, "What's going on?"
James hesitated. "Nothing, just work stuff."
He wasn't convinced. "No, James. Something seemed very off just now."
He was standing off to the side, hands loosely at his sides, gaze fixated on the shut door, before he turned his gaze to his best friend. There was no accusation in his stare—just an unmistakable curiosity laced with tension.
