The four of them stepped into the elevator together, the polished steel doors sliding shut with a soft whisper.
Kane watched the floor numbers descend in silence, hyperaware of Cyrus standing beside him, their shoulders nearly touching.
Fifty-seven arrived first. Isabelle placed a steadying hand on Rina's elbow as the doors opened, revealing a sleek corridor lined with frosted glass panels.
"This way," Isabelle said, her voice gentler than Kane had ever heard it. "The guest suite is just down the hall."
Rina turned back toward Kane and Cyrus, gratitude clear in her tired eyes.
"Thank you. For everything."
Cyrus inclined his head formally.
"Rest well. Isabelle will take excellent care of you."
As the elevator doors closed, Kane caught a glimpse of Isabelle guiding Rina down the corridor with surprising tenderness, her usual rigid posture softened by concern.
The elevator continued its descent, the silence stretching between Kane and Cyrus like a taut wire.
