Seraphina's Point Of View
I turned sharply on my heel, the fabric of my skirt whipping against my shins, and marched straight back toward the heavy glass partition of my private office. My breath rattled in my throat like loose coins in a tin can. Rose followed immediately, the rapid, rhythmic clack-clack-clack of her stilettos sounding like a miniature army tracking me through the administrative mud.
The moment we crossed the threshold, Rose grabbed the edge of the heavy wooden door and swung it shut with a definitive, ringing thud that severed the sudden, terrified buzzing of the bullpen outside. The abrupt silence felt like a guillotine blade dropping.
The quiet struck me like a physical blow. I released a long, shuddering sigh that felt scraped directly from the bottom of my lungs, then slumped completely into my leather ergonomic chair. My spine felt like it had dissolved into wet cardboard.
