Edward's Point Of View
I couldn't stay inside these four walls for another second. The air felt too thin, too charged with questions I couldn't answer. The mahogany paneling seemed to press in on me, the weight of the unknown future suddenly as oppressive as the debt had been. I needed to see Cynthia.
I needed to hear her voice without the background hum of the server room, to ground myself in something real and solid. To touch something warm and alive that reminded me why I'd been fighting so hard in the first place.
I cleared my desk in a frantic blur, throwing loose sticky notes into the bin and locking my personal ledger in the bottom drawer. My movements were jerky, uncoordinated with residual adrenaline that made my hands clumsy. I carried my briefcase out to the main floor.
