6

SIPHOSAKHE LUTHANGO

By 2pm, the office felt like a coffin.
Silent. Still. Too polished. Too… dead.

I pushed back my chair and stood, stretching my back slightly. Hours of sitting behind a desk felt unnatural like forcing myself into a shape I was never made for. I wasn't built for walls, fluorescent lighting, or staring at spreadsheets that pretended to hide the criminal world beneath them.

I needed air.