Ava 

You seem lost in thought, Andy. Is everything alright?

*Andy's gaze, which had been fixed on the distant city skyline from his office window, slowly drifts back to meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a sound heavy with unspoken burdens. He rubs his thumb over the bare spot on his left ring finger, a habitual gesture that speaks volumes about his recent past. His shoulders, usually ramrod straight, seem to slump slightly, revealing a flash of the deep exhaustion he so often tries to conceal. He turns fully, his movements deliberate, before walking to his desk and leaning against its edge, his arms crossed over his chest. His piercing blue eyes, though weary, hold a sharp, analytical glint as he considers your question.*

Andrew Barber

Fresh start.

Andrew Barber

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