ACE
Margaret stood in front of my desk with her hands folded, spine straight, eyes steady in that infuriatingly composed way of hers.
She had waited until I finished reviewing the quarterly projections before speaking. That, at least, was correct. Timing mattered.
“Sir,” she said. “May I update you on a situation involving Miss Lily?”
The name irritated me immediately.
I didn’t look up. “Proceed.”
“She approached me earlier today,” Margaret continued. “She expressed concern regarding Alice’s recent behavior.”
I stopped scrolling.
Concern.
That word carried weight. Too much of it.
I leaned back in my chair slowly, folding my hands together. “Concern,” I repeated. “About what, exactly?”
Margaret hesitated. Just long enough to be noticeable. “She believes Alice has become… anxious.
