{Lisa’s POV}

I remember the way my hands kept slipping against the edges of the file I was holding. It had already started curling from how tightly I was gripping it.

My palms were damp. My throat, dry. I couldn’t tell if it was the air conditioning or my own nerves making me shiver.

The hallway outside the interview room was long and sterile, pale green walls lined with chairs too uncomfortable to relax into. I sat there, fifth in line when I arrived, but the others had all been called in and dismissed. One by one. Each walked out with their lips pressed into a flat line or eyes...