As I turned to leave, I saw Tracy open her mouth, like she wanted to say something.
But when Harry gently reached for her hand, she stopped.
Afterward, I didn’t look back as I walked out.
Back in my office, I started packing my things when Harry showed up.
He leaned against the doorframe, twirling a metal lighter between his fingers, which Tracy gave me for my birthday last year.
“You pack fast,” he smirked. “Tracy said you were sentimental. Guess not.”
I didn’t bother looking at him and kept organizing the drawers.
Suddenly, he pressed down on my hand, stopping me from picking up a folder.
His voice then turned cold as he warned, “You better not get any funny ideas with those client records. If you try anything, the company will come after you.”
I shook his hand off, not even using much force, but he staggered dramatically backward, all the way to the window.
Somehow, the lighter in his hand just so happened to catch the curtain.
Flames shot up instantly, and smoke poured into the office.
I froze in shock.
“Help! Somebody help! He’s trying to kill me!” Harry screamed like a madman, lunging toward the curtains to make sure the fire caught his sleeve.
Outside, I heard rushed footsteps.