Regina’s office was quiet except for the steady shuffle of papers and the soft clink of a teacup. She sat behind her desk, posture perfect, eyes fixed on a report. Emma stood beside her, leaning over the wood surface, scanning a map and muttering something about patrol routes.

“Check that number again,” Regina said, voice crisp. “I did, twice,” Emma replied, scribbling a note anyway.

They barely looked up — two women lost in work, their voices calm and professional. The air smelled faintly of ink, perfume, and coffee. Outside, the afternoon sun stretched through the curtains.

Neither of them noticed the door quietly opening.