Edwards walked with measured, deliberate steps toward Annabelle, who was seated in the lobby, waiting for him. His face was an unreadable canvas, devoid of any telltale emotion that could betray what had just transpired inside the conference room. The air around him felt tense, yet he moved with an eerie calmness, the sound of his shoes echoing softly in the corridor.
Annabelle shifted nervously in her seat, her eyes scanning his face for some hint of what had happened behind those closed doors. "How did it go in there?" she asked, her voice careful and controlled, though her heart raced. She had no idea what had unfolded during the meeting, and Edwards' expression, a mask of perfect neutrality, offered her nothing to work with.
