Olivia Westview
As lunch wrapped up, the once lively chatter had dwindled to a few awkward exchanges.
The team paid for our meals, each of us taking turns at the register. I fumbled with my wallet, feeling the weight of the earlier conversation still hanging over me. Sarah barely acknowledged me as she handed her card to the cashier, and I could feel the tension as we all shuffled out of the restaurant.
The walk back to Liberty was painfully quiet. Tom tried to fill the silence with small talk about an upcoming project, but it was clear that no one was really paying attention. I kept my eyes forward, not daring to look at anyone, especially Sarah.
By the time we reached the floor, I was desperate to escape. The moment we stepped out of the elevator, I turned to the group, forcing a p
