The Gramercy Coffee House had the particular quality it always had on weekday mornings — the low, steady hum of a place that took itself seriously without announcing it, the smell of good espresso and warm wood, the specific ambient noise of a room full of people who had somewhere to be and were taking exactly as long as they needed before going there.
Aurora pushed through the door and felt the warmth of it close around her. She had forty minutes before her next meeting. Enough time for coffee and the seven-minute walk back to Rora AI, which was why she had chosen this particular detour rather than using the machine in the break room. She needed the air. She had been inside her own head since the basement, and outside air and good espresso were the two most reliable remedies she had for that condition.
She crossed toward the counter.
And stopped.
