Morning came without rest. I woke with the same heaviness I'd carried to bed, the same dull ache beneath the ribs. The room felt stale, as if the air hadn't moved all night. I lay there for a moment, waiting for the weight to shift, but it didn't. It rarely did.
On the way to work, I thought about the kitten without meaning to — the small shape under the streetlight, the way it seemed lighter than the air around it. The memory pushed at me, then receded when I forced my attention to the pavement.
Routine.
One foot, then the other.
Keep moving.
The office was loud in the way mornings usually were: chairs scraping, screens flickering awake, someone laughing at something I couldn't hear. I stepped inside, hoping to disappear into the background like any other day.
Ryan noticed me almost immediately.
He stood near the doorway to the main room, a folder tucked under his arm, expression steady as always. There was something careful in the way he looked at people — a mix of assessment and quiet concern that never announced itself.
"You alright?" he asked as I passed him. "Yesterday you seemed… not yourself."
For a second, something in my chest tightened. I kept my expression flat and forced my voice to sound even.
"I was just tired. Won't happen again."
Ryan shifted slightly, lowering the folder. "John, you don't need to—"
A presence cut him off.
A woman stepped forward from behind him, silent enough that I hadn't noticed her until she was right there. Ryan straightened, his tone changing instantly.
"Right. This is Elena," he said. "She's joining the team today."
She didn't smile.
Didn't nod.
Didn't soften herself to make the introduction easier for either of us.
Dark hair pulled back.
Eyes ringed faintly with exhaustion.
An expression that wasn't rude, just… closed.
Her gaze landed on me with the precision of someone taking a measurement. Not curiosity. Not hostility. Just analysis — as if she was mapping out the weakest points without effort.
Ryan began explaining the workflow, the usual onboarding routine. Elena barely looked at him. Her attention lingered on me for a fraction too long.
Then, without warning, she spoke.
"I hope you can keep it together today."
Her tone wasn't sarcastic.
It wasn't emotional.
It was flat — a passing observation delivered like a fact.
I didn't know what to say.
My throat tightened in that familiar way, the one that came when someone saw more than I meant to show. I stared at the monitor across the room, pretending the words hadn't landed where they did.
Ryan shot her a subtle look, the kind that said he didn't approve but wasn't going to call her out on her first day. He kept talking, walking her through processes she barely pretended to listen to.
Elena turned as soon as he finished the sentence, heading toward an empty desk without waiting for direction.
"Elena—hold on a sec—" Ryan called after her.
She didn't stop.
Didn't even slow down.
Ryan exhaled through his nose, resigned, and turned back to me. "Don't mind her. She's… adjusting."
I gave a small nod, though I wasn't sure who he was trying to reassure.
Across the room, Elena sat down at her desk, posture straight, eyes narrowing slightly as she examined her monitor. There was something rigid about her — not anger, not defensiveness, just a kind of tired determination, like someone who had already decided the world wasn't a place worth softening for.
I watched her for a moment longer than I meant to.
Then I looked away.
Something in the room felt different now — a quiet shift in the air, a new pressure in the space between people. I couldn't name it, but it settled under my skin like a warning.
As the morning noise rose around me, I wondered why her voice, barely above a whisper, felt heavier than the boss's yelling the day before.
And why it felt like she'd seen something I hadn't meant to reveal.