The next morning, Isaac arrived at the office before sunrise. He told himself it was to get ahead of the day, that he had too much work, but even as the elevator doors opened, he knew he was lying.
He saw her almost immediately. She was there too, overzealous, disciplined, sometimes at the office before even him, Mina, at her desk near the window, head bent over a pile of files, humming softly under her breath. Her desk was a mess, pens everywhere, a half-finished sandwich on a napkin, sticky notes shaped like stars scattered between reports. And somehow, she looked content.
It shouldn't have bothered him.
He walked past with a curt nod. She straightened immediately, fumbling to stand. "Good morning, sir!"
"Morning," he said without looking at her. Too stiff. Too fast.
He caught a few employees chatting nearby. Mina joined in, laughing at something small, probably unimportant. That sound reached him before he could tune it out.
