Jessica adjusted her blazer as the elevator climbed toward the eighteenth floor. Beside her, Ginny was humming softly, her camera bag slung across her shoulder like an extra limb. The silence between them felt heavy but charged, the kind that came before something they both knew could change everything.
“Relax,” Ginny whispered. “You look like you’re about to defend a thesis.”
Jessica managed a small smile. “Feels like it.”
The elevator doors slid open, and they stepped into the reception area of the Horizon Foundation. The space was modern and understated, walls painted in cream and soft beige, decorated with minimalist art pieces that screamed quiet money. Behind the reception desk, a gold emblem gleamed against frosted glass: a rising sun above a curved horizon.
“Good morning,” the
