Mara sat at the head chair in the conference room, her laptop open, but her focus was elsewhere, she tossed the pen in her hand.
Six hours. It had been six hours since Ethan left for Paris, and still, no word from him. No text, no call, nothing. Her phone sat silently on the table, its screen dark, taunting her.
Her mind raced with questions. Had he reached safely? Was everything okay? The thoughts swirled like a storm. She reached for her phone, her fingers brushing over the screen, hovering over Ethan's number. She wanted to call him, to hear his voice, to reassure herself that he was fine. But something held her back pride, maybe, or the fear of seeming too clingy.
She sighed and slipped the phone back into her pocket, forcing herself to focus on the meeting. But it was hard. The voices around her blurred into a dull hum, the words slipping past her like water through a sieve.
