Miriam's POV
I was still shaken when I stepped into the office. My father’s words echoed in my mind like a mantra.
The fact that I wanted his words to be true. I truly forgot a second thought he meant those words. For a second I wished he cared enough about me but like always. I was just a pawn on his sick game.
I was down being played.
I pulled out my chair at my desk, trying to appear composed while flashing smiles to my coworkers as they greeted me.
My fingers brushed the stack of files waiting for me to attend to them, as I took several deep breaths to calm my nerves and keep my composure.
“Miriam, are you okay? You look… pale.” Clara asked as she walked over, her brows knitting with concern.
I forced a smile, one I hoped didn’t look as brittle as it felt. “I am fine, Clara.”
