Page 113

Her office is empty.

That stops me.

Not sharply. Just enough to register.

Audra’s office is never empty during core hours—not unless she’s in a meeting or across the hall mediating something that should have been handled before it reached her desk. I glance at the clock.

Late morning.

I step inside anyway. The space looks the same—order intact, desk clear, no personal clutter beyond what she allows. The absence feels louder because of it.

I frown.

Then I hear it.

Laughter.

Not hers.

Alex’s voice carries first—animated, unfiltered. Karl’s follows, lower, dry, clearly indulging him.

I step back into the hall and follow the sound.

They’re in Karl’s temporary office. Alex is leaned back in a chair, feet hooked on the edge of Karl’s desk like he owns the place. Karl stands with his sleeves rolled up, flipping through a file with exaggerated seriousness.

Alex spots me immediately.

“Oh good,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “An audience.”

Karl looks up. “This is about Rowley, isn’t it.”

“Yes,” I say. Then, “Where’s Audra.”

The air shifts—not dramatically, just enough to notice.

Karl answers without hesitation. “She’s out.”

Alex grins. “Vacation.”

I wait.

Neither of them fills the silence.

“How long,” I ask.

Karl shrugs. “Couple days.”

“Where.”

Alex’s grin widens. “Not your business.”

I look at Karl.

He doesn’t contradict that.

Something tightens in my chest—not jealousy. Displacement. The unfamiliar sensation of not having access in my own building.

I set the folder on Karl’s desk.