Seraphina's Point Of View
I let my head drop forward, chin brushing my chest. The weight of the day pressed down slowly, the kind that seeps through muscle and bone until your whole body feels older than it should.
Outside my office window the city lights burned steady, rows of gold and white stretching into the distance. Cars slid through intersections like veins of light. People were still out there… laughing, arguing, ordering late dinners, making plans for next week, next year, the next decade.
Plans.
The thought tightened something inside my chest. I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling. "People plan vacations," I muttered quietly. "Promotions. Weddings. Retirement."
My voice echoed faintly off the glass walls.
"I'm here calculating… how many decent days I might still get."
A humorless breath left me.
The sound scraped my throat.
Silence answered.
