Elena’s POV

The elevator moves quietly as it carries me back to the familiar height of my office, yet I feel far from safe, far from settled, as though the walls themselves hold whispers of the confrontation I know waits for me. I press the small of my back against the polished interior, my fingers brushing the strap of my bag as I try to steady my pulse, forcing deep, measured breaths, aware of every movement of my own body, aware of the careful mask I must maintain, because once I step ...