Chapter 28. Night Vigil

The lights dimmed as the emcee glided onto the stage, his voice smooth and rehearsed, echoing through the cavernous hall. The evening drifted toward its apex: the keynote presentation, the closing ceremony, that final moment when legacy and innovation would clasp hands beneath a vaulted glass ceiling. In the audience, a haze of wine and curated intellect mingled in the dim glow, and at once the crowd’s murmurs softened as they turned their attention to the stage. Then her name was spoken.

No company title followed. No lofty “creative partner.” There was no mention of Max. Only Alyssa Wolfe. Multidisciplinary artist. Founder, The Signal Collective.

Max leaned subtly against an acoustic panel along the far wall, half-hidden by its gentle curve, which had been designed to soften the room’s resonance. From this vantage point he had an unobstructed view of the stage and a perfect window to witness her moment of reckoning. He felt the hairs on his neck stand on end.

She