The office felt colder than usual as I stepped inside, the hum of the fluorescent lights above doing little to warm the emptiness I felt.
The scent of paper and polished wood did nothing to calm the storm of worry raging in my chest.
I moved quickly, almost too quickly, my boots echoing against the marble floors as I called out softly, “Cyril?”
No answer.
I stopped at her desk, scanning for any sign of her presence, but it was clear: she hadn’t been here for hours. The computer was off, the chair pushed in neatly, as though she had vanished mid-thought, mid-motion, leaving no trace.
No, no, no… My mind raced. Where is she? Where could she be?
I ran a hand down my face, exhaling sharply, trying to force calm into a body that felt like it was straining under invisible pressure. Cyril
