Nadia's Point Of View
I scowled as I sank into the ergonomic office chair, which despite probably costing more than a teacher's yearly salary, felt like sitting on a bed of nails. The leather creaked beneath me, a sound that seemed to mock my discomfort.
Every adjustment I made only seemed to make things worse, as if the chair itself conspired against me. I didn't care about the high-tech lumbar support or the sleek, minimalist aesthetic of this department. I didn't care about "familiarizing myself with the team" or "learning the foundational pillars of the Corvanni legacy."
Those corporate buzzwords tasted like ash in my mouth, each one a reminder of how far I'd fallen from where I deserved to be.
I cared about one thing: getting close to them.
