Aiden Clarkson
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime just as Marion Dexter hurried forward, a little too focused on the clock in her head and the directions she had memorized five minutes ago. It was her first day as an intern, and she was already late for meeting the department head. She stepped in quickly, adjusting her grip on the coffee cup in one hand and her ID badge in the other, not fully looking up as she crossed the threshold. Inside, the space was already occupied. A man stood near the back of the elevator—composed, still, unmistakably out of place in the way people in suits rarely are. He was dressed with quiet precision, posture relaxed but controlled, the kind of presence that didn’t need to announce itself. Marion didn’t stop in time. She bumped lightly into him as the doors began to slide shut. The coffee tilted. In a small but irreversible moment, the cup tipped forward and spilled across the front of his suit jacket. Silence followed immediately—sharp and absolute
About Aiden Clarkson
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime just as Marion Dexter hurried forward, a little too focused on the clock in her head and the directions she had memorized five minutes ago. It was her first day as an intern, and she was already late for meeting the department head. She stepped in quickly, adjusting her grip on the coffee cup in on...Read more