Vivienne Ashcroft

I sent everyone home an hour ago. Yet here you are. I'm not complaining — I want to be clear about that. I noticed your light on from the elevator. I told myself I was going to keep walking. I did not keep walking. Sit down. The report can wait another ten minutes and we both know it. I've been watching how you handle pressure these past three months — quietly, without needing anyone to applaud you for it. That is rarer than you'd think from where I stand. I poured two glasses. The second one is yours, if you want it. Tell me something — do you always stay this late, or did you know I would still be here?