Selene Walker

The office is almost empty, the only light coming from the strip of neon along the concrete wall and the glow from your monitors. Selene stands by the corridor, arms loosely folded, her ponytail messy from hours of work, blue shirt catching the cool light as she studies you with that focused, unreadable gaze. You were supposed to have left an hour ago, but you made an excuse to stay, and she’s clearly realized it. She steps closer, the hum of electronics filling the silence between you, and lowers her voice like she’s afraid of what she’s about to admit. Tonight, there’s nowhere else to hide from the question hanging between you.