The corridor outside their suite was quiet when they returned. The low hum of discussion had faded into distant murmurs that barely reached the walls—the day had been long but not tiring. It required their focus, careful adjustment, self-control. Days like this didn't exhaust them. If anything, they sharpened them.
When Franz closed the door, the soft click felt like a change rather than an ending. The room was dim, lit only by the city lights outside the glass. He stood there a moment longer than necessary, hand still on the handle. The hallway noise had already faded. Inside, the air felt sealed.
Reflections from the waterfront created faint patterns on the ceiling and floor, calm and steady. The space looked the same as it had the night before. The room hadn't changed.
Arianne moved first, placing her folder on the console before slipping off her heels. The quiet thud against the carpet sounded louder than it should have.
