The hallway to Mr Johnson’s office felt longer than ever. Each step echoed like a drumbeat of dread. Emily’s hands were clasped tightly together, her knuckles pale. Adam walked beside her, jaw set, his pulse pounding beneath his calm exterior.
Mark’s assistant opened the heavy glass door. “He’s waiting.”
Inside, Mr Johnson sat behind his mahogany desk, the morning light slicing through the blinds and cutting across his face. He looked collected. Too collected. A storm brewing behind still waters.
“Sit,” he said.
They obeyed. The silence stretched until it became unbearable. Then Mr Johnson leaned back in his chair and smiled faintly. “You two have been working very closely these days.”
Adam forced a steady tone. “Yes, sir. The mer
