It was almost nine by the time Ian left the office and he couldn’t even blame the audit team for it. On the contrary, they had each come in one by one, well before closing, and nodded their, “Have a nice weekend,” and “Don’t stay too late,” mantras in sing-song voices that suggested happy plans and get-togethers. By that time, Ian had been immersed in a new set of figures that had both suspicious undertones and questionable assumptions, effectively seeding his need for the coercion of numerical truth. It was a task that never failed to get Ian’s mind worming through columns and details for hours. He had to finally force himself to set it aside, retrieve both jacket and keys and exit the building when he realized how late it was.
A light mist was falling as he set the alarm to the building
