The soft hum of the recording devices as they whirled to life filled the room. The sound held me captive, and I found myself unwilling to break the delicate atmosphere of the chamber.
“Take a seat,” Kyle commanded.
The chair scraped as he pulled it away from the table, sending a shiver down my spine. A wave of vertigo washed over me as I took in the seemingly endless amounts of glass lenses all trained on the room. With a fleeting glance in my direction, Kyle sat back in his chair as he flipped through a thick sheaf of papers with disinterest. Without meeting my gaze, he flicked his wrist toward the chair in front of me, indicating that I should sit.
“I believe I told you to sit. You should be aware that I truly dislike wasting time,” he stated.
