By the next morning, the mood in the office had shifted. The laughter that once filled the cubicle corner was now replaced by the quiet clatter of keyboards and the occasional rustle of paper. Yesterday's easy rhythm had been replaced by something heavier—something Shikha could feel before she even sat down.

Himanshu's door was open, but no one dared to speak too loudly near it. He was on a call, his tone clipped and controlled, every word precise. Even from across the room, his authority carried weight.