บท 6: Ghosts of the Past
It had been 15 days since the library incident, a moment that felt both distant and painfully close in Sarah's memory. She had started her new job as an Administrative Assistant at a publication firm located on the 6th floor of the same building as the library, which occupied the 3rd floor. The transition was swift; she had walked into the firm the very next day, eager for a fresh start, even though her heart still carried the weight of embarrassment.
At first, Sarah struggled to adapt to her new responsibilities. The world of administrative tasks was overwhelming, and she often found herself staring blankly at her computer screen, unsure of how to proceed. Her responsibilities included organizing manuscripts for publication, assisting in the editing process by compiling feedback from editors, managing schedules for meetings and deadlines, handling correspondence with authors and publishers, and maintaining an organized filing system for important documents. It felt like a lot to juggle, especially in the beginning.
However, as the days passed, Sarah began to find her rhythm. She learned to prioritize her tasks and set manageable goals. Slowly but surely, she started to grasp the ins and outs of her role. Her colleagues noticed her dedication and hard work, often offering helpful tips and encouragement. With each small victory, her confidence grew, and she felt a sense of accomplishment that had been absent since the library incident.
Despite her burgeoning success at work, Sarah grappled with the reality that she was bunking her college lectures. Guilt gnawed at her conscience. She knew that her education was important, yet the thrill of working in the publishing world—surrounded by books and immersed in literature—was intoxicating. It felt like a dream come true, and she often found herself lost in the joy of the job, even as her studies took a backseat.
In quieter moments, Sarah couldn't help but think about the mystery man who had been in the library that day—the one who had witnessed her embarrassing moment. A wave of humiliation washed over her whenever she recalled his face, even though she had never seen him again. It was strange how one fleeting encounter could haunt her thoughts. She had hoped to see him again, to understand why he had been there, but she had to admit, a part of her was relieved that he hadn't resurfaced.
As a form of self-preservation, Sarah had stopped going to the library altogether. The very thought of stepping inside felt too daunting, a reminder of her mistakes. She missed the atmosphere—the smell of books, the quiet rustle of pages turning—but the fear of encountering someone who might recognize her was too great. Instead, she focused on her new job, finding solace in the work that was now her world.
The atmosphere in the office was charged with anticipation as Sarah prepared for her first major work meeting. She adjusted her blazer and took a deep breath, reminding herself that she was capable and had worked hard to earn her place here. The meeting room, filled with her colleagues, was buzzing with conversation, but the moment she stepped inside, a hush fell over the group.
Mr. Travis, her manager, was seated at the head of the table, flipping through notes. "Thank you all for coming," he began, his voice authoritative yet calm. "Today, we're discussing our upcoming projects and how each department can collaborate effectively. Sarah, if you could provide us with the latest updates on our manuscript submissions?"
As she approached Mr. Travis, her heart raced, and her palms began to sweat. But it wasn't just the pressure of speaking in front of her colleagues that unnerved her; it was the sudden and overwhelming sense of dread that washed over her as her eyes landed on a familiar figure sitting near the back of the room.
There he was—the mystery man from the library incident. He was sitting in the main chair, his presence casting a shadow over the meeting. He wore a dark blazer, and his expression was unsettlingly calm, a ghost-like smile hovering on his lips. She felt her breath catch in her throat, and her legs went weak beneath her.
Time seemed to freeze as their eyes locked. The world around her faded away; all she could focus on was the unsettling familiarity of his gaze. Memories of the library flooded back—her embarrassment, the chaos of that moment, and the inexplicable shame that had clung to her since.
"Sarah?" Mr. Travis's voice broke through her haze, pulling her back to the present. "Are you ready?"
The room was silent, all eyes on her. She swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure. "Uh, yes, of course," she stammered, forcing herself to look away from him. She could feel the heat creeping up her neck, but she fought to regain her professionalism.
"Let's start with the manuscript submissions," she continued, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand. She recounted the latest figures and updates, trying to ignore the way her heart pounded in her chest.
As she spoke, she could feel his gaze boring into her, a silent scrutiny that made her feel exposed. She couldn't shake the sensation of vulnerability, as if he was the only one in the room that mattered. The tremors in her hands made it difficult to hold her notes steady, and she was painfully aware of how every word felt like a struggle.
After what felt like an eternity, she finished her update and returned to her seat, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The meeting continued, but the weight of his presence loomed large. Sarah stole glances in his direction, trying to decipher the smile on his face—was it mocking, sympathetic, or something else entirely?
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