* Jana *
The alarm clock on my nightstand blinked 6:45 a.m., its red digits far too sharp for the fog still clinging to my head. Monday. The beginning of another work week. But I couldn't move. Not yet.
I lay staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint hum of traffic outside my apartment window, my chest tight with indecision. The thought of walking into that office, passing in his office, made my stomach twist.
Lawrence knew. Or at least, he suspected. I had seen it in his eyes last night, the way his voice sharpened when he demanded the truth, the way his silence carried more weight than any accusation.
Part of me wanted to stay hidden behind the mask I had built so carefully. My new name, my quiet life, the illusion of being just another employee, invisible and safe. If I went ba
