Behind The Mask
He hugged me tight, lingering just a little longer than usual, then left.
I remained seated, staring at my phone, my finger hovering over the call button. Every instinct screamed to act, to demand answers, but I forced myself still. In this elite world, survival wasn’t about who shouted the loudest, it was about who played their part the longest, who learned patience.
As if on cue, my phone lit up. Mr. Everhart.
I steadied my voice. “Hello.”
“Aria, how is work?” he asked, warm and almost too jovial.