The morning air was crisp as we walked through the city streets, the weight of uncertainty hanging over us like a dense fog. Chris had been quiet since we left the studio, his shoulders tense, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. I didn't push him to talk—there wasn't much to say. We both knew why we were here.
When we reached Anne's office, she was already waiting, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, legal pads spread across her desk. She gave us a small, tired smile as we walked in.
"Good morning," she said, gesturing for us to sit.
Chris sat down stiffly beside me, his knee bouncing slightly. "What's going on?"
Anne laced her fingers together, exhaling softly. "I managed to pull some strings. The board has agreed to review the case sooner than expected. The hearing is set for next week."
My stomach clenched. Next week? That was barely any time at all.
Chris let out a slow breath, his jaw tight. "So, we're out of time."
