"I don't know," Katherine said for what felt like the hundredth time that day, her voice flat, her eyes trained on the elevator light as it blinked floor after floor. "Please, don't ask me again."
Around her, the curious murmurs of coworkers and loose acquaintances trickled off into awkward silence. She stepped out as soon as the elevator doors opened, clutching her handbag tighter, heels clicking on the polished floor of the underground parking. Her shoulders were stiff, her jaw clenched.
She truly didn't know. And that was the worst part.
By the time she reached her car, a familiar tightness had bloomed behind her eyes, not quite tears, but a pressure of things unsaid, of things building.
Katherine unlocked her car door with a little more force than necessary, the metallic click echoing in the cool air of the underground parking. She slid into the driver's seat, letting out a long, controlled breath.
