Her headset was plugged in. Volume up. Mute button on the wire—unlit. Good. She watched her own icon on the screen: the little microphone flickered when she whispered “test.” Flickered. Then died.
Silence.
She typed in the chat: Mic issue. Dialing in by phone.
David from Development. He’d been looking for a reason to outsource IT. “Elena’s great,” he’d said last quarter, “when things work.” The pause after when was a knife. Today’s presentation on the new donor database was her proof of competence. Without audio, she was just a frozen face on a grid.
Her chest tightened. Seventy-three people would join in two minutes. Including him .