Lucy had just finished cleaning the last desk in the accounts office when she heard the door open again.
She didn't turn immediately.
"Almost done," she said, thinking it was just another staff member.
No response.
Lucy straightened slowly and turned.
It wasn't someone she usually saw.
Well-dressed.
Calm.
Standing too comfortably for someone who didn't belong there.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
The man didn't answer immediately.
He stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him.
Not loudly.
But enough for Lucy to notice.
Her grip tightened slightly around the cloth in her hand.
"You were here that evening," he said.
Lucy frowned. "Excuse me?"
"The evening the documents went missing," he added.
Lucy straightened. "I already answered questions about that."
"I'm not asking what you answered," he said calmly. "I'm asking you."
Lucy held his gaze. "And I'm telling you the same thing."
Silence.
The kind that stretched.
Uncomfortable.
"I didn't take anything," she said, more firmly now.
The man nodded slightly. "That's what you keep saying."
"Because it's true."
Another pause.
He walked closer.
Not too close.
But close enough to make her aware of it.
Lucy didn't step back.
"You were alone," he continued.
"Yes."
"No one saw you leave."
Lucy's brows pulled together. "That's not unusual. I clean after people leave."
He watched her.
Like he was measuring something.
"Do you know what was in those documents?" he asked.
Lucy shook her head. "No. And I don't need to."
"That's interesting."
Lucy exhaled slowly. "What is?"
"You don't seem curious," he said.
Lucy gave a short, dry look. "Curiosity doesn't pay my salary."
A faint pause.
"And yet," he said, "you've been asking questions."
Lucy frowned. "About what?"
He didn't answer that directly.
Instead—"You spoke to someone the other day."
Lucy's expression didn't change, but something in her eyes did.
"That's not related to this," she said.
"Isn't it?"
Lucy's patience thinned. "If you have something to say, say it clearly."
Another pause.
The man studied her for a second longer.
Then—
"Be careful," he said.
Lucy blinked. "What?"
"Some situations are bigger than you think," he added.
Lucy let out a small breath, almost a laugh. "I'm already in it, aren't I?"
He didn't respond.
"So what exactly do you want from me?" she asked.
"To see how you respond."
Lucy stared at him. "To what?"
"To pressure."
Silence.
Lucy shook her head slightly. "I don't have time for this."
She picked up her bucket.
"I didn't take anything," she repeated. "And I'm not going to keep saying it."
She moved past him.
"Lucy."
She stopped.
Not turning yet.
"If you remember anything," he said calmly, "anything at all…"
Lucy turned slightly.
"…I won't," she cut in.
A pause.
Then she added, quieter but firm—
"Because there's nothing to remember."
She walked out.
This time without stopping.
In the hallway, her steps were steady.
But her chest felt tight.
That conversation—
Didn't feel normal.
Didn't feel official.
Clara spotted her immediately. "Lucy? What happened?"
Lucy shook her head. "Nothing."
"That didn't look like nothing," Clara said.
Lucy lowered her voice. "Someone just asked questions again."
Clara frowned. "Who?"
Lucy hesitated.
"…I don't know," she said finally.
Clara looked past her toward the accounts office.
Then back at Lucy.
"You should be careful," she said quietly.
Lucy gave a tired exhale. "Everyone keeps saying that."
Clara didn't reply.
Lucy picked up her things again.
"I just want to finish my work," she said.
Clara nodded slowly. "Yeah…"
As Lucy walked away—
She didn't look back.
But inside that office—
The man hadn't moved.
Not yet.
After a moment, he adjusted his sleeve slightly.
Calm.
Unbothered.
"Interesting," he murmured under his breath.