Rhea POV
My reflection in a shop window caught my eye as I passed. Rowan walked confidently, dressed sharply, expression calm. No one would guess the nervous person underneath.
At least, I hoped not.
I checked the time.
Definitely late.
I picked up my pace.
My mind replayed Lucy's final words again and again: not waterproof. That alone felt like a threat. What if I sweated? What if it rained? What if I accidentally rubbed my face?
What if someone looked too closely?
I reached the building entrance slightly out of breath and paused before going in. This was always the moment — the invisible line between pretending and becoming.
I straightened my jacket.
Adjusted my shoulders.
Lowered my expression.
Rowan mode.
Then I stepped inside.
The air smelled like coffee and printer ink. Familiar sounds of keyboards, phones, and quiet conversations filled the space. Normal. Safe. Ordinary.
I walked toward the elevator, heart steadying with each step.
