I had no idea what was happening over at Moreau Dynamics. Whatever storms were gathering there, whatever decisions were being set in motion… all of it was outside my line of sight. My week had been smooth, productive, almost deceptively calm. And honestly? I wasn't thinking about Lucien, or Charlie, or anything remotely connected to that company — except for Val of course.
Because i had something else to deal with.
Trent had called earlier in the afternoon, his voice carrying that strange mix of annoyance and hesitation he got whenever he genuinely needed help but didn't want to admit it. He only said there was "a little issue," nothing serious, but could I swing by after work? He didn't disclose details, which, in Trent-language, meant the details were either embarrassing, expensive, or both.
