Davina's POV
I fidgeted in the waiting room chair, my fingers interlaced and trembling as I fought to steady my thundering pulse.
A nagging whisper of uncertainty gnawed at the edges of my confidence.
I had performed well. I knew I had delivered.
The questions had been challenging, absolutely. I'd anticipated some standard inquiries instead.
It caught me off guard, sure, but I relied on my mind to rise to the occasion when it mattered. And it had. I had articulated my thoughts with clarity, presenting my concepts methodically while maintaining as much composure as possible.
I ensured I held their gaze, despite knowing my hands were shaking subtly. I could tell they were engaged, offering occasional nods, and at one moment, I was certain the recognizable woman wearing glasses had even offered a subtle smile.
They seemed impressed. At least, I prayed they were.
