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I stayed there for a moment longer than I should have, just to catch my breath and figure out how I was going to afford the bus ride home from a city that suddenly felt too expensive for me to exist in. Just as I was getting up to leave, the elevator doors opened with a soft chime and an older woman stepped out, accompanied by several men in expensive suits who immediately adjusted their posture as she appeared. She looked sharp and professional, but there was a quiet intensity to her presence—and something softer in her eyes that stopped me from fully looking away. She froze mid-step when she saw me, her gaze locking onto my face for several long seconds before she turned to the receptionist and asked who I was.
