Selene’s POV:

The dying light of the sunset spilled into the kitchen window like molten gold. I was humming that old tune as I pushed open the door—a melody that'd popped out of Granny's ancient record player, lighthearted enough to poke fun at the exhaustion of my day. First day at Thompson Publishing wasn't half bad: Brian's enthusiasm felt like a thin layer of candy coating over something sticky underneath, but I'd gritted my teeth and powered through.

Files stacked up like mountains, ...