Chapter 88 Fault Lines

From my office, I can see her.

Not perfectly. The glass is tinted and angled, designed so I can monitor the floor without it being obvious. A strategic architectural choice I approved years ago.

Today, it feels personal.

Hazel hasn’t been still for more than thirty seconds at a time.

She’s snapping at printers. Cutting off a junior associate mid-sentence. Slamming files down a little harder than n