Seraphina's Point Of View
Hours later, the world outside my office had softened into a blur.
Time didn't move in minutes anymore. It moved in pages. In paragraphs highlighted. In numbers circled, crossed out, rewritten in the margins with a firm hand.
The first document had been easy.
Too easy.
I skimmed, eyes scanning line by line, brain clicking into that familiar rhythm… the one that felt like home. Projections. Targets. Feasibility. Risk assessment.
My pen paused.
I frowned.
"No," I murmured, tapping the page once. "This won't work."
I leaned closer, elbows on the desk, rereading the section. The proposal was flashy, pretty words wrapped around weak substance. Inflated promises. Vague timelines. No real data to back the confidence.
I exhaled through my nose, uncapped my red pen, and wrote neatly but decisively across the top.
DISAPPROVED. REVISE AND RESUBMIT.
