POV: Evelyn Reeve
I checked my watch for the tenth time in the last hour. The second hand seemed to be dragging itself through molasses, mocking the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest.
The latte on my desk was a lost cause—stone cold and untouched for two hours, leaving a dark, bitter ring at the bottom of the ceramic mug. I couldn't even swallow my own spit, let alone a drink.
Ever since the lunch break ended, Jovan’s office door had remained a solid, impenetrable slab of oak. No one went in, and more importantly, he hadn't come out. Not even for his usual mid-afternoon caffeine run.
I tried to force my eyes back to the rows of financial data flickering on my monitor, but the numbers were just a blur. Instead, Chloe’s venomous whisper from the breakroom this morning kept looping i
