Clara
Nicanor's office smells of polished wood and freshly brewed coffee. Last meeting. Last signatures. The last chapter of something that, unintentionally, forced me to share a table with Ethan again.
Nicanor is radiant.
"I have no words to thank you," he says, shaking hands one by one. ""You've exceeded all my expectations."
Ethan answers first. Professional. Impeccable. Sure.
"It has been an honor to represent our company in this project. Thank you for trusting us."
That voice. Always firm. Always convincing.
When my turn comes, I hold Nicanor's gaze serenely.
"Working on something that has purpose is always a privilege. Thank you for the opportunity."
He congratulates us again. He gets up. He escorts us to the door. All right. Everything clean.
As if there wasn't a story be
