Chapter 6

"Found it," Jackson suddenly said, breaking the heavy silence. He pointed to a line of code on the screen. "Someone tampered with the algorithm here. That's what caused the faulty data output."

I quickly leaned in to check. He was right.

It must be Yvette.

With the crisis resolved, we both let out a breath of relief. Jackson closed the file and stood, stretching his shoulders. I watched him quietly, and just then, he turned and met my gaze.

Under the office lighting, the usual iciness in his eyes softened just slightly. Noticing the dark circles under mine, he spoke in a tone I wasn't used to hearing from him. "You've worked hard."

Those three words brushed against my heart like a feather.

My cheeks burned, and my heart started racing again. First because of that strange wooden cat, and now because of this unexpected kindness.

Was it just some random old carving he locked away... or was it actually tied to our bizarre dreams? What exactly was Jackson hiding?

That wooden cat was like a splinter under my skin. I couldn't stop thinking about it.

The more he hid it, the more I needed to know. That thing might've been the key to our shared dreams.

So the very next chance I got to slack off, I casually brought it up with some long-time colleagues, pretending to make small talk.

"Oh, you mean that little wooden cat?" Freya Willis, the senior admin, said while sipping her peppermint tea in the pantry.

"That's been around for ages," she confirmed. "Mr. Zeller got it not long after he joined the company. Someone... rather significant gave it to him, though I can't remember who. But he's always kept it close, like it's really special."

Someone important? That was vague, but it was something. That figurine definitely had a story.

My instincts buzzed. This was it. I was getting closer to the truth.

That night, I couldn't wait to fall asleep, hoping my dreams would reveal more.

Sure enough, I dreamed of Jackson again. This time, the dream took place in his eerily quiet, spacious office.

Fearlessly, I floated toward his desk, eyes fixed on the drawer where I knew the wooden cat was locked away.

I focused my thoughts, "looking" directly at it, and something extraordinary happened.

The fuzzy outlines of the dream sharpened. Suddenly, I could see everything clearly: the desk, the blinds, even the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air, and a trace of wood.

Even stranger, I could feel Jackson's emotions. He was tense, frustrated, and a bit nervous.

It was just like when he had locked the drawer.

"That's it! This cat is the dream conduit!" My excitement bubbled over.

The next morning, with that revelation burning in my chest, I looked at Jackson like I had X-ray vision.

But in real life, Jackson remained a mystery.

One minute, he was praising my work, which was a first.

Next, in the elevator, he ignored me entirely, cold as ice. The air between us was so thick that coworkers around us held their breath, thinking I must've upset him again.

What was with this guy? One moment he was kind, the next he was freezing me out. I felt like I was trapped on an emotional seesaw.

It was just a dream connection. We were not sharing bank passwords. What was he so afraid of? He flirted in the dream, then ghosted me in reality. Total Jekyll and Hyde.

Before I could unravel my own thoughts, Yvette was at it again.

Somehow, she'd found out Jackson had stayed late with me to fix the data, and now she looked at me like I'd stolen a high-profile project from her.

That afternoon in the pantry, Yvette strutted past with a overpriced cup of coffee, clearly trying to make a statement.

Her voice oozed passive aggression. "Oh my, Ms. Lott. You really are Mr. Zeller's favorite these days, even working late with him! We old-timers can't even get him to join us for dinner."

The jealousy in her tone was so strong, I could almost taste it.