Adam barely slept that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Emily in the rain beside Daniel. He told himself it meant nothing, that she had only been polite, but the image wouldn’t fade. Her laughter echoed in his head, soft and haunting.
And that message.
Mr. Johnson’s message.
We need to talk about what you’re doing.
He’d read it over and over, trying to find a hidden meaning, something that would make it less threatening. Maybe it was about the project. Maybe it wasn’t about Emily at all.
But deep down, Adam knew.
By morning, the tension had grown heavy inside him. He arrived at the office earlier than usual, his thoughts sharp and scattered. The building still smelled faintly of polish and coffee. He kept his head down, avoiding eve
