The glass doors closed behind her and the street hit her all at once.
Noise. Exhaust. The glare of afternoon light bouncing off every window on the block. Audrey blinked against it, her eyes still adjusting from the dim lobby. Her bag strap had slipped down her shoulder again. She pulled it up. Harder than she needed to.
She stopped at the curb.
Not hesitation. She told herself it wasn't hesitation. Just—the pause after a long conversation. The moment when your brain catches up to your body.
Her chest still felt tight. She hadn't noticed it in his office. Now she noticed.
She exhaled. Slow. Let her shoulders drop.
A group of office workers crossed the intersection, laughing at something. A taxi honked further down the block. A delivery truck idled near the corner, exhaust puffing into the warm air.
Audrey started walking.
