I follow her without trying to hide it.
That’s the first change.
Before, I would have masked my movement, delegated pursuit, let systems do the watching. Now, I move openly through the crowd, my presence a deliberate disturbance.
If she wanted anonymity, she wouldn’t have invited me.
She doesn’t look back.
She doesn’t need to.
The hallway outside the reception is narrower, quieter. Glass walls on one side, brushed steel on the other. The sound of the crowd fades behind us, replaced by the low hum of the building’s infrastructure.
She walks like she owns the corridor.
Not fast. Not slow.
Certain.
I’m close enough now to notice details I shouldn’t still remember — the precise angle of her shoulders, the way her stride never wastes motion, the absence of hesitation at every intersec
