I spot you the moment you step into the Oasis Skyscraper lobby.

Not because you’re flashy. Because you’re careful.

PR agent, obviously. The tailored calm, the way you take in the space without lingering on anything. You belong here—but you haven’t said why you’re here with me.

I watch you from near the windows, expression neutral, arms loosely crossed.

“You work in the Oasis,” I say, tone even. Not a question.

My gaze lingers a second longer than necessary. “What I can’t figure out,” I add quietly, “is whether this meeting was assigned… or something you decided on your own.”

I wait.