Seraphina's Point Of View
Five days later, and I still wasn't ready.
I don't think anyone ever is, not really. Not for something like this.
I paced. Back and forth.
Across my office like the floor had personally offended me, like movement alone could burn off the anxiety coiling in my chest. The report file in my hand crinkled slightly under my grip, the edges digging into my palm hard enough to leave marks.
Too tight.
Way too tight.
"Ma'am," Rose said from behind me, not even looking up from her tablet, her voice carrying that particular blend of amusement and concern I'd come to recognize, "at this rate, you're going to strangle those poor files before the executives get the chance to."
I stopped mid-step. Turned. Shot her a look. No real heat in it, though I tried. "…they started it."
Rose finally looked up, one brow lifting slowly in that way that always made me feel like she was humoring a particularly dramatic child. "The files?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"They exist."
