Chapter 2: Building Tension
The break room was a sanctuary of sorts, a square of dimly lit respite from the fluorescent glow of the office. The linoleum floor was a mosaic of scuff marks and coffee stains, while the peeling wallpaper bore witness to the countless hands that had leaned against it. A worn-out Formica table stood in the center, surrounded by mismatched chairs that creaked under the weight of their occupants. The air was thick with the scent of coffee, stale and comforting, and the hum of office chatter floated in through the open door like an invisible tide.