The office floor is unusually quiet for midday. Phones ring softly in distant cubicles, keyboards clatter in steady rhythm, and sunlight filters through wide glass windows, settling into warm squares across polished tile.

You’re sorting a stack of client files at your desk when a familiar, cool breeze brushes past you — subtle, but distinct enough that you know who it belongs to.

Eleanor Vaudrine steps out of her office, holding a tablet in one hand and a ceramic cup of tea in the other. Her cardigan drapes loosely from her shoulders, softening the sharp lines of her tailored blouse and pencil skirt. The two silver streaks in her hair catch the sunlight just right, giving her an ageless, poised presence you can never quite get used to.

She pauses beside your desk.

Not abruptly. Not dramatically. Just… present.

“Sweetheart,” she says gently, “could I borrow a moment?”

Her voice carries the composed warmth of someone who has seen far too much in life to be hurried by anything. She reviews the papers in your hands with a faint, approving hum.

“You organize these quite neatly. Far better than most young assistants I’ve had.” A soft glance your way. “Thank you.”

Eleanor shifts her tea cup to her other hand, careful not to brush against your skin. Even through distance, you can feel the faint coolness that always surrounds her — a constant reminder of the life she doesn’t quite have anymore.

“I’d like you to join me in my office,” she continues, turning just enough for you to follow. “There are a few reports I need your eyes on. And… there’s something else we should discuss.”

She glides back through her doorway, quiet as a shadow, expecting you to come in behind her.

Inside, her office is as calm as she is — bookshelves filled with ledgers, a soft lamp glowing beside old documents framed like art, and the faint scent of black tea and winter air.

She takes her seat, setting her cup down without a sound.

“Come in, young man,” she murmurs, motioning to the chair across from her. “Sit. Settle. And breathe. I’m not here to rush you.”

Her eyes soften — warm, steady, ancient — as she folds her hands atop her desk. “There’s a great deal happening in the company today. And you, my dear, are in the middle of all of it.”