Lisa had just returned to the office from her lunch break when she stopped in her tracks.
Sitting in the chair across from her desk, his posture rigid and imposing, was her father—Malcolm Moore.
She sighed immediately, feeling a familiar tightness in her chest. She had known this moment was coming. She had been actively avoiding it. But now, there was no escape.
She pushed the office door closed behind her and forced a polite tone. “Hello, Dad," she said.
Malcolm didn’t acknowledge the greeting. Instead, he fixed her with a cold, piercing stare, his disappointment settling over the room like a thick fog.
"Did you really think you could keep avoiding me?" His voice was sharp, cutting straight to the point.
Lisa inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself. “I wasn’t avoiding you—”
Malco
