The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of my office, casting slanted rays of light across the stacks of paperwork and my laptop. I was buried in emails and reports, each one demanding my attention. The sheer volume of work was beginning to wear on me, and a slight throb started behind my eyes.
Just as I was massaging my temples, trying to stave off a headache, the door to my office swung open and Lydia, my assistant, stormed in. Her usually calm demeanor was replaced with an unmistakable look of frustration and annoyance.
"Carmen," she began, her voice tight with suppressed irritation. "Sydney's parents are here. They're demanding to see you."
I frowned, my patience already frayed by the morning's workload. "I don't have time for them today, Lydia. Tell them to leave."