Sebastián let out a short, cutting laugh. Not amused—dismissive. It echoed across the lobby, sharp enough to fracture the silence. A few customers exchanged awkward glances. Others pretended not to hear. In places like this, silence often grows from fear.
Then Sebastián said the words that would follow him long after that moment passed.
“If you even have a balance,” he sneered, “I’ll pay you double.”
For illustration purposes only
The room seemed to freeze.
Keyboards stopped. Printers fell silent. Even the air—sterile, scented with paper and polish—grew heavy with tension.