The Ultimate Return of Carlos

45

Carlos sat at his desk, the cursor blinking on his monitor, staring back at him like a challenge. His focus was slipping; the constant murmur of the office, the quiet judgment he felt pressing in from all sides, was enough to distract anyone. The soft tap tap of fingers on keyboards, the low hum of printers, and the occasional sharp ring of a phone echoed through the hallways. He ran his hand over his face, feeling the weight of it all, as he rose from his chair.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, draped it over his arm, and exited his office. The familiar anxiety of walking through the hallways where eyes trailed his every movement crept back in. He could feel the whispers again— like tiny daggers of judgment, though none dared speak up in his presence. His heart pounded faster with each step as he made his way to Toby's office.

Carlos reached Toby’s door and knocked lightly before opening it. Toby was seated, typing away, but when he noticed Carlos