pte

rson's Pe

ar

de you feel valued. It was a refreshing change from the cold, demanding presence of Mr. Lazarus. While I still had to face Lazarus every day at

d the gesture, the idea of going to his house made me uneasy. I wasn't ready for something so p

ne earlier. "But I think it'd be better if we met at a resta

ore he replied, his voice understanding, "Of

a cozy Italian restauran

hrough the air. As we sat across from each other, Brandon was as charming as ever. He asked

sert when the con

d. Hope that boss of yours isn't putting y

no more no less and I think I've g

eaning back in his chair. His tone was light, but there was an edge to it. "I mean, the

nt of Mr. Lazarus wasn't entirely inaccurate, I felt a pang of discomfo

him and come work with me. Seriously, " Brandon continued. "If I were

. "He can be difficult, yes. But he's still my boss,

response. "You're too kind, Marie. Honestly, some

ther bite of dessert, steering the

andon insisted o

stepped outside. "It's late, and I do

rby. "Thank you, Brandon, but it's really not

sed, his concern evident. "I'd feel

ng inside me resisted. My gut told me I neede

ng him a reassuring smile. "Thank you for a l

argue but eventually nodde

d before walking to

sigh. The evening had been nice, but that strange unease lingered, gnawing

gave him the directions to my apartment, and he nodded silently. For a while, the ride was un

n to my street that my heart started

ickly, leaning forward

mirror, his expression apologetic. "Sorry ab

s still hammering in my chest, but I forced myself to breathe.

and prepared to turn around. I relaxed

elief was

headlights glaring like twin beacons in the night. The screech of tire

mpact throwing me forward. My seatbelt yanked me back sharply, knocking the air

avy struck me. The world tilted, spinnin

edges of my vision, swallowing the chaos around me. The last thing I heard was the