Isabel’s POV
Christine and I arrive at the condo just as the sun dips lower, casting a warm golden hue over the building’s reflective glass exterior. The parking lot is bustling, and as we step out, I notice the controlled chaos inside. The buzz is palpable, a hum of voices, hurried footsteps, and the occasional clatter of tools reverberating through the air. It’s nothing out of the ordinary—every department seems to be making their final push for the project’s completion, but I can’t shake the tension curling in my chest.
As we make our way through the grand entrance, heads turn. Conversations falter, and their surprise is evident, though expertly masked with polite smiles. It’s clear they hadn’t expected me here today.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” several voices chime as I pass.
I offer
