42

'THREE MONTHS LATER'

The piercing screech of Carlos's alarm shattered the peaceful quiet of his Manhattan apartment. He groaned, his hand fumbling over the nightstand, desperately reaching for his phone. His fingers finally landed on the buzzing device, and with a swift tap, he silenced the intrusive noise. The room fell back into a hushed calm, but the stillness did little to ease the weight that settled over him.

"Seven months," he muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Seven damn months."

Carlos swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his bare feet sinking into the plush carpet below. The excitement he should have felt about his first day back at work was dulled by the growing pit of anxiety in his stomach. "What will they say when I walk in?" he scolded himself, shaking his head as he made his way to the bathroom. "You disappear for months, and you think they're just going to welcome you back with open arms?"

He stared at his reflection in the bathroom
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