(Lena)
By the time the afternoon settled in, the office had returned to something that looked like control. The earlier disruption had been absorbed into work, files moved forward, and calls handled without hesitation. I had spent the last few hours doing exactly what I always did, taking something messy and forcing it into structure. From the outside, nothing about my day would have suggested anything had gone wrong.
Inside, it hadn’t fully settled.
I sat at my desk reviewing the final version of the guest cottage proposal, checking each section carefully. The numbers were right, the language was clean, and the scope matched what I intended to present. I made two small adjustments, saved the document, and closed the file without hesitation. That part of my life still worked the way it
