TIARA MCKENZIES' POINT OF VIEW
I stood frozen outside his office, my fingers trembling as I clutched the folder of documents I never intended to open in front of him. The hallway felt colder than I remembered, sterile and distant, like every second I stood there chipped away at my nerve. I'd begged Eli's secretary, something I never thought I'd do, but she barely hesitated. She recognized me instantly, offered a polite smile, and buzzed me through without a word.
Everyone still thought we were fine. But I was about to break whatever illusion was left.
As the door clicked shut behind me, my throat dried out, and all the rehearsed words dissolved like smoke. My palms were damp, my chest tight.
Eli stood by the tall office window, dark suit pristine, back straight, gaze distant as the city skyline framed him like a painting. For one agonizing second, I saw the boy I used to know. And then he turned.
Now, I wasn't sure if I had the right to remember it at all.
His expression didn't waver.
