my office, smiling as usual.
He often brought a bottle of water.
“Here, Sofia. You look like you’ve had a long day.”
I’d accept it without thinking.
Then sometime during the ride, I’d become unusually sleepy.
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My memories would grow hazy.
And eventually, I’d wake up much later than expected, unable to remember the remainder of the journey.
When I told Julian, he dismissed my concerns.
“You work too hard, sweetheart. Your body’s telling you to slow down.”
Sometimes he joked about how many hours I spent staring at spreadsheets.
Other times, he suggested I wasn’t getting enough rest.
I wanted to believe him.
But after the third incident, I began feeling genuinely uneasy.
I couldn’t understand why the same thing kept happening only when Marcus drove me home.
So I purchased a small digital voice recorder.
I placed
