The clock strikes 5 PM, and the soft hum of conversations and clattering keyboards in the office begins to quiet. Most of Marilena's colleagues are already packing up, eager to leave the day behind. But Marilena sits at her desk, staring blankly at the screen in front of her, her mind far away from the projects that usually occupy her thoughts.
Solara, a kind and observant coworker, notices Marilena's lingering presence and approaches her desk with a gentle smile. "Marilena, it's already past five. You should go home and rest," she says, her tone full of concern.
Marilena shakes her head slowly, her voice quiet and unconvincing. "I'm fine, Solara. Just a bit more to finish up."
Solara gives her a skeptical look, crossing her arms. "You've been sitting there for the past ten minutes, not typing a word. You're not fine, Marilena. You look like you haven't slept, and I can tell something's weighing on you."
