The first warning came during the late afternoon session.
A staff member stepped into the meeting room and spoke quietly to Silas near the front. Silas frowned, checked his phone, then stood and addressed the room.
“There’s a coastal storm moving in faster than expected,” he said. “Roads back to the city may close by evening. We’re extending the retreat by one night. Rooms will remain available. We’ll adjust tomorrow’s schedule accordingly.”
A low murmur moved through the group. Chairs shifted. Someone near the back muttered about flights. Troy’s hand, resting on the table near Alex’s folder, moved slightly closer until his fingers almost touched the edge of the paper.
Alex kept his eyes on the open page in front of him. One more night. Same suite. Same locked door. Same watch.
Silas
