At N&E in J. City, I leaned back in the sofa and watched Evelyn at her desk. Her movements were deliberate and confident, each keystroke precise, each glance at her screen purposeful. Piles of reports and documents lay neatly stacked around her laptop, a silent testament to how much of herself she poured into this company every single day.
I set my hand on the armrest and let my gaze linger, noting the subtle determination etched into her face. “Evelyn,” I said softly, my voice calm but carrying a weight she couldn’t ignore, “why are you doing all of this yourself? You’re capable of delegating, yet you shoulder every detail as if N&E depended solely on you.”
She paused, letting her fingers rest on the keyboard, and looked up at me with tired eyes. “I know it sounds stubborn,” she admitte
