The weeks leading to the engagement gala moved forward with the slow, relentless pull of something that could not be stopped once it had begun. On the surface, each day unfolded normally. Meetings filled the calendar, reports circulated through inboxes, and the office carried on with the quiet rhythm of work. Yet beneath that ordinary structure, tension gathered the way fog gathers along a shoreline, spreading gradually until it touched every conversation and every glance. No one named it aloud, but all four of them felt the pressure of it building. Something inevitable was approaching.
At work Willow operated with the kind of sharp focus that left no room for error. Her presentations were flawless. Her decisions came quickly and with the same cool logic that had earned her reputation long before this week began. She moved through the office with calm efficiency, her voice steady in meetings, her posture composed. To anyone observing casually, she appeared completely in control.
