Willow left the building with the steady composure of someone who had learned not to announce progress until it could no longer be taken away. The meeting had been careful rather than generous, precise rather than affirming, and she carried that balance with her as she crossed the lobby and stepped out into the afternoon light. She was already thinking about revisions, about what would need tightening before the next conversation, about how to prepare without inflating expectations. The doors closed behind her and she did not look back, not because she was avoiding anything, but because there was nothing behind her that required attention.
She did not see Miles.
