Morning arrived with a cold rain that seemed determined to soak through everything.
The sky hung low and gray above the city, clouds pressing down like a weight.
By the time I reached the office, the sidewalks were slick and shining.
Inside, the atmosphere hadn't improved.
If anything, the quiet felt heavier.
Conversations stopped when people passed Daniel's desk.
No one sat near it anymore.
The cardboard box from yesterday had disappeared.
His computer was gone too.
All that remained was the faint rectangle of dust where his monitor had once been.
"You notice the absence," the warmth said softly.
"It's hard not to."
"They erase him quickly."
"That's what workplaces do."
The warmth pulsed once.
"You do not seem comforted by that."
"I'm not."
~
Emails piled up faster than I could answer them.
Work felt strange today.
Every few minutes my attention drifted.
Every small sound made my chest tighten.
A phone ringing. Footsteps in the hallway. Someone laughing too loudly across the room.
My mind kept replaying the same scene.
Daniel's hand gripping my sleeve.
The confusion in his eyes.
Then the panic.
"You are remembering," the warmth said.
"I can't stop."
"You do not need to."
"That's easy for you to say."
Silence followed.
Then it answered quietly:
"I remember it too."
The idea made my stomach twist.
"You felt it?"
"Yes."
"What did it feel like?"
The warmth hesitated.
Like it was choosing its words carefully.
"He was harming you."
"That's not what I asked."
Another pause.
Then:
"He stopped."
Something about the simplicity of that answer unsettled me more than anything else.
~
Around noon, my phone buzzed on the desk.
An unknown number.
My pulse jumped before I even picked it up.
The warmth noticed immediately.
"You think it is him."
"Maybe."
But when I answered, the voice on the other end was calm.
Measured.
Familiar.
"This is Adrian Vale."
Relief mixed with tension in a way that surprised me.
"Yes?"
"I was hoping you might have a few minutes this afternoon."
"For what?"
"A follow-up conversation."
"You already asked me everything yesterday."
"Not quite everything."
My stomach tightened.
"What time?"
"Three o'clock."
~
The conference room felt colder than usual.
Rain tapped softly against the window.
I sat at the far end of the table, watching droplets slide slowly down the glass.
The warmth remained quiet.
Not absent.
Just listening.
The door opened.
Adrian entered carrying a thin folder.
He sat down across from me, setting the folder on the table without opening it.
"Thanks for meeting again," he said.
"You said it wouldn't take long."
"It won't."
But he didn't start speaking right away.
Instead he studied me quietly for a moment.
Not aggressively.
Just carefully.
The warmth reacted instantly.
"He is measuring you."
"I can tell."
~
Adrian folded his hands together.
"I spoke with building security this morning."
My pulse quickened.
"And?"
"There are cameras covering most of the parking lot."
The warmth tightened slightly.
"He is approaching the truth."
Adrian continued.
"They don't capture everything, but they show Daniel waiting near the exit."
"That matches what I told you."
"Yes."
His voice remained calm.
"They also show you arriving a few minutes later."
"That also matches what I told you."
Another pause.
"You spoke for roughly two minutes."
"That sounds about right."
"And then you walked toward your car."
"Yes."
Adrian tapped his finger lightly on the table.
"Daniel followed you partway."
The warmth pulsed once.
Sharp.
"He moved toward you."
"Yes."
Adrian watched my face.
"Did he say anything during that moment?"
"I don't remember the exact words."
"What do you remember?"
"That he wanted me to give him another chance."
"Did he touch you again?"
The question sat between us.
Heavy.
"Yes," I said quietly.
Adrian nodded once.
"And then?"
"I told him to stop."
"Did he?"
"Yes."
The warmth stirred beneath my ribs.
"You are leaving things out."
"I know."
~
Adrian leaned back slightly in his chair.
"I'm trying to understand the sequence of events," he said.
"Why?"
"Because Daniel collapsed less than a minute after that interaction."
The words felt like cold water poured down my spine.
"He had a heart attack," I said.
"That appears to be the case."
"But?"
Adrian didn't answer immediately.
Instead he opened the folder and glanced at a page inside.
"The medical examiner noted something unusual."
My hands tightened in my lap.
"What?"
"Daniel's adrenaline levels were extremely high."
"That can happen during a heart attack, right?"
"Yes."
Adrian closed the folder again.
"But the report also mentions signs of sudden acute fear."
The warmth reacted instantly.
Tense.
Alert.
"He was afraid."
Adrian's gaze sharpened.
"Do you know why Daniel might have been afraid of you?"
The question hung in the air.
For a moment, I almost laughed.
"I'm not exactly intimidating."
"That's not always what fear responds to."
I looked at the rain streaking down the window.
"No," I said quietly. "I don't know."
~
The silence stretched longer this time.
Adrian didn't press further.
Instead he studied my breathing.
My hands.
The way I sat.
"You're very controlled," he said eventually.
"Is that a problem?"
"No."
"Then why bring it up?"
"Because most people in your position would appear more shaken."
"I process things differently."
"Yes," he said.
"I know."
~
The interview ended soon after that.
Adrian walked me back to the hallway again.
But before leaving, he stopped.
"You mentioned Daniel had boundary issues before," he said.
"Yes."
"I've spoken with two other employees today."
My chest tightened.
"They described similar behavior."
"That doesn't surprise me."
"No," Adrian said.
"It probably doesn't."
He watched me for another second.
Then added:
"If he made you feel unsafe at any point, you should tell me."
The warmth pulsed.
Protective.
"He is offering protection."
"I can handle myself," I said.
Adrian held my gaze a moment longer.
Then nodded.
"Maybe."
~
I returned to my desk.
The rain outside had grown heavier.
The office lights hummed quietly overhead.
For a long time I just stared at the screen without reading anything.
Then the warmth spoke again.
"He suspects something."
"Yes."
"But he does not understand."
"No."
The warmth shifted closer inside my chest.
"He asked if Daniel was afraid of you."
"Yes."
"That is interesting."
"Why?"
A slow pulse followed.
Because I knew the answer before it spoke.
"He was not afraid of you," it said gently.
I swallowed.
Then asked the question I had been avoiding all day.
"Who was he afraid of?"
The warmth responded softly.
"Me."