Dante knew something was wrong the moment he stepped out of the elevator.
It wasn’t obvious.
Not to anyone else.
But to him—
It was immediate.
Aruna stood near the glass wall, her back facing him, city lights framing her silhouette in gold and shadow.
She didn’t turn when he entered.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe the way she normally did when she sensed him.
“Aruna,” he said.
She turned slowly.
Her face was perfect.
Her expression calm.
Too calm.
Dante walked closer.
Studying her.
Every line.
Every detail.
Every microscopic shift.
“Where did you go?” he asked quietly.
She tilted her head slightly.
“I never left.”
The words were correct.
The voice was correct.
But something deeper—
Wasn’t.
Dante stopped three steps away.
Close enough to touch.
Far enough to observe
