Theresa.
The golden hue of the late afternoon sun drifted through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long, soft shadows across the central foyer of the penthouse.
I stood by my main executive desk, neatly arranging the last of the signed civil registry forms and sliding them into a dark leather binder. My body felt surprisingly light. There was no lingering fatigue, no shadow of medical lingering in my chest, and none of the heavy dread that used to follow me everywhere.
Walking out of Lawrence's office a little while ago, I had caught Lurgard watching me from his doorway with a satisfied, knowing grin, while Lawrence sat at his desk looking lighter and far more relaxed than he had all week. Both of my interactions with them had settled deep into my chest like a soothing, steady warmth.
That left only one door on the penthouse floor still closed.
