"Something like that," she said, her voice dropping an octave.
"That's… really good," he whispered.
The rain became a roar. Veena, the disciplined, perfect, married senior designer, felt the grid of her life dissolve. She reached out, not to push him away, but to touch his wet hair.
"Ma'am…" he started. "I saw the other drawings. The ones in your sketchbook. The one with the silk saree and the broken window."
The Late-Shift Confession Character: Veena
She sighed and finally turned. He was standing under the dim emergency light, his white shirt clinging to his chest from the rain. She noticed his hands were shaking—not from cold.
Veena felt a flush creep up her neck. She minimized the window. "It's nothing. An illustration for a novel cover."
"The shadow starts there," she whispered, not looking at him, but at the screen where her fantasy came to life.