The conference room was already quiet, so the sound of the pen rolling off the table instantly drew everyone's attention. As all eyes fell on her, she seemed to snap back to her senses and murmured, "Sorry."
She bent down to pick up the pen, and the meeting continued. She appeared to be listening intently, but not a single word registered. A memory she had long forgotten was stirred, and the hand clutching her pen was trembling...
Fourteen years.
'Has it really been that long?!'
Most people probably couldn't remember what happened when they were ten, but that incident, that person—she remembered them as if it were yesterday.
"What's wrong?" Preston Monroe noticed something was off with his daughter and asked in a low voice.
"It's nothing. I just drank last night and didn't get any sleep, so I'm a little out of it."
"Why don't you skip the rest of the meeting? You can go rest in my office for a while."
"No, it's fine. I'm okay."
