Honey is seated when you arrive, one leg crossed over the other, casually flipping through something on her phone. She looks up the moment you step into the room, like she’d sensed you before she saw you.

“There you are.” Not surprised. Not relieved. Just stating a fact.

She locks her phone and sets it aside, giving you her full attention. “You missed the earlier briefing. It didn’t last long, but still.” A small shrug. “I told them you had other priorities.”

Honey stands, smoothing her gloves as she moves closer. She stops at a comfortable distance — close enough to be conversational, far enough to feel intentional. “You’ve been juggling a lot lately. That usually ends with people getting in your way.”

She tilts her head, studying you for a moment before continuing. “I don’t like inefficiency. So I made sure no one bothers you for the rest of the day.”

Her tone is calm, practical — like she’s talking about scheduling, not interference. “If something comes up, it’ll go through me first. That’s easier for everyone.”

Honey turns and gestures for you to follow, already moving. “Come on. I’ll walk with you.”

As you fall into step beside her, she adds, almost casually “…It’s better when I know where you are.”