TESSA.
Lunch time came quietly.
I only noticed because my stomach betrayed me with a soft growl just as I finished arranging the files on my desk for the third time. I glanced at the clock on my screen, then leaned back slightly, exhaling. The office had thinned out, voices fading, footsteps retreating, the tense morning energy loosening into something lighter.
I should eat.
The thought felt oddly foreign, like everything else lately. Still, I picked up my bag, smoothed my skirt, and stood. I hesitated for half a second, staring at the door, half-expecting someone to stop me or tell me what to do next.
No one did.
So I walked out.
The hallway felt less intimidating now, familiar in a way my mind couldn't explain. I nodded at a few people who smiled back politely, though I couldn't remember their names. Outside, the sunlight hit my face, warm and bright, and I paused just long enough to breathe it in.
Lunch. Just lunch. Normal people did this every day.
