The descent from the executive residence to the lower pavilion felt like passing through a gateway between two distinct epochs. Behind us lay the silent, hyper-encrypted mainframe towers of the corporate fortress; ahead lay the raw, unpolished energy of a harbor city that had finally shaken off its chains.
The air in the open-air courtyard was thick with the rich, savory smoke of suya grills and the sharp, bright tang of citrus from discarded peels. Hundreds of local crew members, terminal operators, and junior engineers had spilled out onto the concrete plaza, their voices rising in a deafening, unified roar of laughter and song that vibrated deep within the marrow of my bones.
"Look at them, Sarah," Ethan murmured near my ear, his hand a solid, grounding weight at the small of my back
