The hum of the fluorescent lights filled the breakroom as Jack lingered by the counter, stirring his coffee slowly. The clock ticked on, but his focus never wavered from the steaming mug in his hand.

He’d watched the others leave, as he always did, their footsteps fading down the hallway until the place was quiet. Just the way he liked it.

The door to the breakroom creaked open, and Jack’s gaze shifted briefly, a soft smile curving on his lips. His voice was low, just above a murmur.

“Staying late again?”

His fingers tightened around the mug, but the gesture was subtle, almost imperceptible. The words were innocent enough, but there was something in the way they were said—something calm, knowing.