The applause reaches her before the words do.
Evelyn pauses outside the glass-walled conference room, the sound rolling through the corridor in a dense, sustained wave. It isn’t polite clapping. It’s approval. Momentum. The kind of collective affirmation that signals inevitability. She stops walking, her heel half-lifted, body registering the shift before her mind completes it.
Through the glass, Liora stands at the head of the table.
Centered. Framed. Smiling.
A placard has been placed in front of her—clean font, bold alignment. Interim Lead. The board members’ faces are turned toward Liora with synchronized attention, their posture open, receptive. Someone laughs at something said inside. The sound is muffled but warm.
Evelyn sees her own reflection in the glass instead of an invita
