The elevator doors slid open with a muted chime, and Merlina stepped into the marble lobby of CCL Group.
The air was cold, not just skin-cold, but silence-cold. It deepened the higher she climbed.
Each floor she passed had felt a little more distant, a little more sterile, as if warmth and humanity were things left behind somewhere near the ground.
Now she was standing on the top floor. His floor.
The corridor stretched long and pristine. Everything was silver, glass, and precision; not a single fingerprint on the walls, not a paper out of place.
Her reflection followed her in the mirrored walls as she walked, more uncertain with every step, until she reached the frosted glass doors that bore the name in sleek steel lettering:
CHARLES C. LESNAR — CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER.
The sight of his name made her throat dry. For a stupid moment, she almost turned back, as if leaving now could undo everything that had led her here.
