The library lights had dimmed automatically sometime after ten.
Soft amber lamps glowed across dark wood shelves and polished floors while rain drifted quietly against the long stretch of windows overlooking the city. Half-empty coffee cups sat abandoned beside stacks of restoration reports. Open folders from Artemis cluttered one corner of the table beside the Codex, which remained shut tonight but no less present for it.
The room smelled faintly of paper, leather, and exhaustion.
Galathea Brooks stood near the glass with her arms folded tightly across her chest, staring at the city thirty floors below.
Traffic moved like slow rivers of white and red beneath the rain.
Her reflection stared back at her in the window.
Tired eyes.
Loosened hair.
Designer blouse beneath her restored uniform blazer.
The blazer had been worth retrieving.
At least half the staff stopped staring at her chest long enough to gossip quietly about her relationship with Cael instead.
