Innocent Interrogations
The intercom buzzed on Samantha’s desk. Mr. Barrett’s voice, smooth as always but with a hint of caution, requested her presence. In his spacious office, sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting patterns on the plush carpet.
“Samantha,” he began, trying to sound casual, “there’s been a lot of talk. You’ve been with this company for a while. What have you heard?” It was an attempt to probe, wrapped in the guise of a simple conversation.