For a while, Ava remained exactly where she was.
The glass doors behind her reflected a version of herself that looked composed enough to pass for certainty. People moved past her without paying attention—heels clicking, phones pressed to ears, laughter slipping through passing conversations—and yet she stood still, as though stepping forward required more than just motion.
Her fingers tightened slightly around her bag, then loosened.
A breath settled in her chest, deeper this time, as something quiet but insistent began to take shape in her mind.
Ava turned and walked into the office again.
The movement was slow at first, almost hesitant, but by the time her heels carried her back toward the entrance, there was something steadier in her stride.
Inside, the air felt different now.
