NICOLE

The two days vanished in a panicked, heart-pounding blur. And now it’s here.

Morning light streams into my office, but it feels like a lie. My heart is a frantic bird beating against the cage of my ribs. I can feel each thump echoing in my throat.

I force my hands to type, to answer emails, to sort through the endless data on my screen. My movements are robotic, efficient. On the outside, I look like the perfect, composed assistant.

But inside, I’m screaming.

Please, slow ...