Helena Voss sat at her desk at 11:46 AM and watched the clock tick over to 11:47.
She didn't blink. Didn't move. Her hands were folded on the mahogany surface exactly the way she'd placed them twenty minutes ago, fingers interlaced, thumbs resting against each other. The office was silent except for the low hum of the climate control and the occasional notification chime from the three monitors arranged in front of her.
At 11:47 and twelve seconds, the first data point appeared.
It was modest. A streaming spike in the Pacific Northwest, predictable given Kaleo Park's established fanbase in Portland and Seattle. Nothing extraordinary. Helena watched the number tick upward and felt nothing. This was what she'd expected — a reasonable debut for a sophomore single from an artist who'd underperformed the first time around.
By noon, the Pacific Northwest spike had company. Texas. Georgia. Three markets in California she hadn't personally authorized promotion for.
