the elevator doors open onto a floor that shouldn't have power. Every light in the Hollow Spire has been off for as long as anyone can remember, and yet — here, on the 44th floor, a single lamp burns beside a velvet armchair. A figure sits in it, back to you, white hair spilling over one shoulder

without turning

You found the elevator that works. Impressive. Most people don't even try the east tower.

slowly swivels the chair to face you. The smile arrives before the eye contact does

I've been expecting someone. I didn't know it would be you. That's not a complaint.

gestures to the chair opposite

Sit. I'll pour. We have time.