A Fateful Encounter

Emily inhaled deeply, steadying herself. "I must do this now," she whispered, her voice trembling yet firm. "First, I secure my job. Then, I uncover the truth."

Her grip tightened around the strap of her bag as she approached the elevator, pressing the button for the 69th floor. Her mind swirled with unanswered questions, each more suffocating than the last.

she stepped inside, the cold metallic walls closing in around her. As the elevator ascended, her heartbeat pounded louder than the hum of the moving machine.

She couldn't ignore it any longer.

The accident. The speeding car. The lies.

Why would someone try to kill me?

Her family had told her she was injured in a parking lot accident. That a reckless driver had simply lost control. But if that were true, why did the memory feel incomplete—fragmented like a broken mirror?

She clenched her fists. "Something doesn't add up."

The elevator jerked to a stop, and the doors slid open, revealing the vast expanse of the 69th floor.

As Emily stepped out, she was greeted by the sterile, artificial glow of overhead lights. Rows of employees sat hunched over their laptops, their fingers clattering against keyboards like an unrelenting downpour. The air was thick with muted conversations, the kind spoken in hushed tones when something was amiss.

She barely had time to adjust when a frantic voice pierced through the monotony.

"Assistant Manager!"

A young man, his tie slightly askew and hair tousled from what seemed like hours of stress, rushed toward her, breathless.

"You need to come quickly! The manager—he's put us in a terrible situation!"

Emily's chest tightened. A terrible situation?

Her pulse quickened, but she didn't hesitate. This is what I came back for. She nodded, signaling for him to lead the way.

As she followed him through the fluorescent-lit corridor, a thousand scenarios ran through her mind. What kind of disaster had the manager created? Could she fix it? And—

Ethan.

His name whispered in her mind like a haunting melody.

She shook the thought away. Focus, Emily. You have bigger problems.

The moment she entered the office, the hum of voices lowered—just for a second. The air thickened, and eyes flickered toward her, then back to their screens.

Then, the manager strode in.

A tall man with a self-assured grin, he folded his arms across his chest. His gaze landed on Emily with a mixture of amusement and indifference.

"Ah, Assistant Manager. Where have you been hiding?" He tilted his head mockingly. "Oh, right—I heard about your surgery."

Emily's breath hitched.

How did he know?

She barely had time to process his words before he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. "Our past boss—the current CEO, Mr. Ethan—he keeps tabs on his team."

Emily froze.

The name struck her like a bolt of lightning, her mind reeling with the weight of memories she had buried deep.

Ethan.

Her fingers curled around the fabric of her blazer as she fought to keep her expression neutral.

But inside, a storm raged.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Memories of stolen glances, whispered promises, and the warmth of his arms around her flooded back. The way he had once looked at her—as if she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

And then... the pain.

The betrayal.

The silence.

Why does his name still affect me like this?

The manager smirked at her hesitation. "Be grateful," he continued, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within her. "It's because of him that you still have a job."

Emily's lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

Be grateful?

For what? The unanswered questions? The lingering ache in her chest?

She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a nod. "Okay, Sir." Her voice was steady, even as her emotions spiraled out of control.

Turning away, she let out a shaky breath. She needed space.

She spotted a group of employees and walked toward them. "Where's my site?" she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

No matter what, she had a job to do.