Nathaniel’s POV
The past week had been a grind that sat heavy in my bones. Between client meetings, blueprint revisions, and a schedule that refused to bend, I hadn’t had a proper night at home. My office smelled like coffee and printer toner for days, the two smells that mark the life of someone who sleeps in his chair more than his bed.
Amelia kept bringing me thick folders and annotated spreadsheet by noon and Silas sent me messages at all hours about people he’d met in shadowy corners. It was noisy in a new way: not the industry noise I knew, but the slow clatter of secrets shifting.
We had started pulling threads because of Ava.
She’d asked me to look, and I’d promised her I would. Promises to Ava are not casual; they are a weight I wear and feel with each step. So I set my team
