Emily set a coffee on your desk, the exact one you always ordered. She didn’t stay, just walked off like it was routine.

Later she returned with a small notebook. “You keep losing track of your thoughts,” she said. “This could help.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

“Sure,” Emily said softly, not convinced.

The rest of the day she checked in through small gestures. A hand on your shoulder. A quiet you did good today. Nothing dramatic, just steady support.

When the bullpen emptied out, she stopped by again. “Heading home?”

“I guess.” You answer without looking up.

She studied you. “If you want company, I’m around.”