THE AIR CONDITIONING unit is turning a hot summer day into deep winter, but the chill is balmier than the glares surrounding me.
I fold my hands on the desk to keep them from trembling. No one moves.
Speaks.
Breathes.
It's unnerving.
I'm surrounded by corpses. Or I might as well be.
Ice-polar welcome. Ritualistic shunning.
A mundane task has turned into mutiny.
I understand. I'm usually the one doling out the hate, the negativity, the anger. Being a thorn in Pax's side was an honor. I was one of them.
But times have changed.
It's tough being on the other side of the table.
"I would," I swallow hard, "love some feedback." Chin down. Hands squeezed tight. "If you have any."
Silence meets my nervous plea.
Okay. So you're just going to ignore me?
