Galathea's heart hammered a frantic, irregular rhythm against her ribs. The screen of her phone remained completely dark.
Cael was not answering.
He always answered. Even in board meetings. Even when the gallery was undergoing active structural shifts. The silence from his end of the line felt thick, oppressive, and entirely wrong. The heavy dread pooling in her stomach warned her before her logic could catch up.
She shoved the phone into her pocket and headed straight for the executive lobby. The polished marble floors clicked sharply beneath her heels, the sound echoing too loudly in the sterile, high-end corporate air. The silver doors of the private elevator came into view, but the space in front of them was not empty.
A cluster of maintenance crew members-- wearing the distinct charcoal uniforms of Vale Organization - Construction Department-- were crowded around the sealed steel doors.
