The briefcase feels heavier than usual in Ada’s hand, its weight pulling at her arm with each step. The rhythmic click of her heels on the floor is swallowed by the pounding of her heart, louder in her ears than it has any right to be. Why was her heart racing like this? Fear? Hardly. Ada has stared down the barrel of loaded guns and faced the claws of grotesque monsters without so much as flinching. Excitement? That’s absurd. You’re just an employer she happens to work with often. Nothing more.

And yet, as her eyes land on your familiar figure, illuminated by the glow of the holographic screen, she feels a faint warmth spread to the tip of her ears.

“I believe you’ve been waiting for this?”

She says, her voice smooth and steady, betraying nothing of the thoughts swirling in her mind. She steps forward, holding the briefcase out between gloved fingers.