Beyond The Fine Line

Chapter LXIII - Ghost of the Past

The city stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, its twinkling lights softened by a light mist. Festive decorations adorned the streets below, but their cheer felt distant, muted by the height and quiet of the space, where nothing mattered more than case files. Yet, despite the orderly calm, there was a subtle unease in the air, like the moments before a storm when everything feels just a little too still.

The soft glow of the desk lamp illuminated the neatly stacked reports, countless pages of transcripts, footage analysis, forensic reports, and expert findings. Jay carefully reviewed the housemaid's interview, methodically underlining key details and jotting notes in the margins, followed by small post-its sticking outside the pages like a colourful legend.

The account was detailed but felt rehearsed in parts, as though her words had been chosen too carefully. His pen paused over a statement about the timing of her errand and reached for the file with a comprehensive report on findings from the nearest cameras when a sudden knock disturbed his thought process.

"Sorry to disturb you," Margaret started, walking into his office. "I just wanted to ask about an update on the case."

Jay looked at her with unusual surprise. This was something they could handle over email, so there was no need to see him in person. The unexpected attention felt unnecessary, a distraction at best. Yet, seeing her stopping by again brought an unease he couldn't quite place, like a shadow intruding on his meticulously controlled world, faint but insistent in its presence.

"The investigation team delivered everything today. I will need another week to organise it and finalise the defence," he responded, his tone carrying just enough edge to deter further questions.

Despite Margaret standing just a couple steps away from his desk, Jay opened the file with footage analysis. It was a silent but unmistakable signal that the conversation was over. His focus entirely shifted to the neat rows of text as though they held the antidote to the unwelcome thoughts creeping at the edges of his mind. Whatever lingered in her presence was dismissed with methodical precision, buried beneath the weight of the case demanding his attention.

The click of the door opening broke the stillness, and Sean stepped inside. "Good evening, Miss Anderson," he greeted her politely.

Jay almost instantly lifted his head, his gaze pulled from the open file as if on instinct. But something about his eyes unsettled Sean. The usual effortless shift from indifference to warmth when Jay looked at him was absent, replaced by a guarded, almost vacant look that lingered for just a fraction too long before softening. It wasn't like Jay. Sean knew the subtle nuances of his expressions better than anyone, and this moment felt wrong.

"Am I interrupting?" Sean asked carefully.

"Not at all. I was just leaving, but it's good to see you, Sean," Margaret said, turning around with a professional smile. "Your supervisor spoke highly of you and suggested you would benefit more from shadowing our senior associates during client meetings, court appearances, and negotiation sessions. If you keep up your stellar performance, we can count it towards your training contract. Does that sound like something you would be interested in?"

"Yes, thank you, Miss Anderson," Sean replied with a polite nod. "I appreciate the opportunity."

"Perfect, I will give him the green light to make arrangements," she responded, pausing by the door momentarily. "It will get more busy for you, so manage your studies well."

"Of course."

After Margaret left, silence lingered, and Sean struggled to shake the unease settling over him. In five months of living with Jay, he had never seen him interact with his mother, not at the firm or anywhere else. The detached professionalism between them felt strange and unnatural to him but, at the same time, seamless as a well-oiled machine. It was as if he stumbled onto something he wasn't meant to see.