He froze. Mouse? Too slow. Win+D ? Too dramatic—she’d see the desktop flash. He scrambled, fingers stabbing keys.
Leo smiled. He didn’t reply. He just pressed Win + M one more time—just because he could.
Out of pure panic, he mashed Win + M .
Every open window—the wiki, his email, the hidden calculator where he’d been tracking Margaret’s sighs-per-day—all of them slid down into the taskbar like startled turtles into a pond. Clean. Silent. Absolute.
Leo was a keyboard snob. He believed any action requiring a mouse was a waste of human potential. His coworkers called him “Ctrl+Z” behind his back, but he didn’t care. Efficiency was poetry. hotkey to minimize window
“Yes?” He smiled, staring at a clean, calm desktop wallpaper of a cat wearing a space helmet.
And then he found it.
She blinked. “You’re… working on something?”