37

37. ๐“๐ก๐ž ๐Œ๐ข๐๐ง๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐‚๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฌ

The ticking of the wall clock could be heard distinctly, slicing through the heavy, stagnant air of the office.

A absolute pin-drop silence had settled over the entire room, thick enough to feel suffocating.

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Chandiniwrits

Imperfectly perfect!