The first sign was not dramatic, which was what made it so terrifying.
Three days after the failed hospital trap, Ashford Tower had settled into a deceptive calm. Maris Eastern Port remained secure, Zurich's legal routing had closed the final exposure points, and Lucien's investor calls restored a steady upward confidence line across the international markets.
On the surface, everything appeared stable. But Seraphina had lived long enough with loss to understand that disasters rarely announced themselves with noise. Sometimes they began with something as small as a delayed reply.
Her father had promised to send his morning vital signs report by seven. By eight-fifteen, the secure family health feed remained blank.
Seraphina stared at the untouched notification window on her tablet while the strategy office around her moved through its usual rhythm of muted screens and early market updates.
