The elevator doors closed with a soft chime, the chrome walls reflecting a distorted version of herself, one that looked far more composed than she felt. She tightened her grip around the file she’d been pretending to skim through, as if facts and figures could somehow anchor her to this moment instead of letting her drift back into memories she had buried six feet under.

Her heels clicked against the polished marble floors as she stepped into the executive wing. Cool air brushed against her arms, but it wasn’t the chill of the AC that made her shiver. It was something else, something older, colder, and stitched deeply into her nerves.