10 - MY BOSS.
June.
The house always smells the same.
Clean. Expensive. Controlled.
It’s the first thing I notice every time I step inside, closing the heavy door quietly behind me. The scent clings to the air. Polished wood, fresh linen, something faintly sharp underneath. Something I’ve never been able to name, but always feel.
I slip off my shoes by the entrance and line them up neatly, just like I always do. It was more like a routine. My everyday simple routine.
Just the same thing everyday. No guesses, no changes, no uncertainty.
At least, that’s what this job used to feel like.
I tie my hair back into a low bun and adjust the sleeves of my shirt, already moving toward the living room. The afternoon light pours in through the tall glass windows, stretching across the marble
