HARRISON
She’s quieter than usual.
Not in the “focused on work” way either. I know that version of Parker. She hunches a little when she’s deep in a spreadsheet, furrows her brow when she’s double-checking something. But this? This is different.
She’s stiff. Eyes a little too blank when she looks up from her desk.
I stand in my doorway with a coffee in one hand and no real plan. I’ve been in meetings all morning, and all I wanted after was caffeine and ten minutes of quiet. But then I passed her desk, and now quiet feels wrong.
I take one more sip, then walk over. She doesn’t see me until I’m close. “Hey.”
She blinks, then gives me a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Morning.”
“You’ve said fifteen words today. Want to make it twenty?”
That gets me a flicker of something—amu
