The serviced apartment smelled like hotel soap and new paint.
Nothing in it knew me.
That was the point.
The thermostat did not adjust before I shivered. The curtains did not open because morning had reached the room. No quiet system learned the hour at which I reached for water.
I slept badly.
I woke with my hand throbbing and my phone silent.
No message from Silas.
No missed call.
No car waiting downstairs because someone had predicted I would be too tired to argue with convenience.
For one minute, I hated him for doing exactly what I had asked.
Then I got dressed.
Elena's office occupied three floors of a limestone building that looked too old to care about trending topics. By the time I arrived, the conference room was already arranged with binders, sealed folders, two lapto
