Not polite silence.
The kind that means I just ruined something expensive.
“I’m so—” I start, then look up.
And freeze. At the head of the table?—
Nathan.
He’s already standing.
Our eyes lock.
For half a second, neither of us moves.
Then he says quietly, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Yes. I—God, I’m so sorry,” I say, already scrambling to gather things.
He comes around the table and kneels to help me.
And then?—
He stops. His gaze isn’t on the coffee. It’s not on the mess.
It’s on my shoes. My Chuck Taylors.
He just… stares.
Like he’s somewhere else entirely. Like he’s seeing something I can’t.
“You ok?” I say, confused.
He flinches like he’s been pulled out of water. Straightens.
All the color drains from his face. “I—” he starts.
He doesn’t finish. He just turns and walks out of the room. Doesn’t say anything to me. Doesn’t say anything to them.
Just leaves. The door closes behind him.
I’m still kneeling on the floor, surrounded by spilled coffee.
And about twelve silent, well-dressed strangers.
Slowly, I look down at my shoes, then back up at the room.
No one says a word.
My face burns.
“Uh,” I manage. “Sorry about… all of this.”
Minutes later, I’m returning my visitor badge. The receptionist smiles at me, answers the phone, and grabs my badge. I wave and look up behind her.
The plaque mounted just above her desk reads:
REIGN MANAGEMENT AGENCY
