Doll House – Ba
The hum of the office floor was a low, steady vibration, a sound that lived in the soles of Elle’s shoes and the base of her skull. It was late afternoon, that time of day when the sharp angle of the sun cut through the downtown high-rises and turned the carpeting into a landscape of long, dusty shadows. Elle sat at her desk, the fluorescent overhead lights reflecting off the smooth, white surface of her button-down shirt. She adjusted the collar, the starched fabric stiff against her neck, and focused on the spreadsheet glowing on her monitor. The numbers blurred slightly, rows of financial data that required a precision she was struggling to summon. She reached for her coffee mug, a ceramic chipped at the rim, and took a sip. The liquid was cold, a …