At minute fifty-three, the conference room door opened.
Gabe came out first, his expression controlled but bright around the edges. Engaged, not intimidated.
Good.
Annie followed, thumbs moving over her phone, probably recalculating the cost of three security redundancies Nick had identified in under twelve minutes.
Summer paused in the doorway with Nick. I couldn't hear her through the glass, but I knew my sister’s negotiation posture by the level chin, calm shoulders, and sharp eyes.
Nick said something.
Summer’s face softened for half a second, then she extended her hand.
He took it.
Whatever they had agreed to, Nick had somehow made a handshake look indecently responsible.
Nick turned from Summer and looked through the glass, directly at Daisy’s desk.
Daisy, traitor and future defendant, lifted one finger and pointed down the hall toward my office.
I returned to my desk with all the dignity available to a woman caught loitering outside her own conference room.
He stopped at my threshold.
“Mr. Mercer,” I said.
“Ms. Wilder.”
“Congratulations. You survived the committee.”
His gaze moved over my face. “Not my most dangerous field assignment.”
“Give Summer time.”
A crease touched the corner of his mouth.
He stepped inside but stopped several feet away, leaving the door open and the space between us defensible.
“How did it go?” I asked.
“You know how it went.”
“I wasn’t in the meeting.”
His mouth shifted, and then, uncharacteristically, he laughed. “No. You were not.”
I held his gaze with the full authority of a CEO who had been visibly standing beside Daisy’s desk for nine minutes.
The month between Mara Khaya and this office had followed him through my door. Daily texts. Calls about nothing urgent and everything that mattered. Conversations that started practical and ended with one of us reluctant to hang up.
“Phase one starts next week,” he said. “Remote review first. Two site audits in November. Gabe keeps daily control. Summer handles escalation. I build the system. I don’t replace the team.”
“And Mara Khaya?”
“Through December thirty-first.”
“And here?”
