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Bane steps past me, and the back of his hand brushes mine as we cross paths. Neither of us reacts. I tighten my grip on the briefing folders instead, hoping they’re enough to distract me from my pulse.
Theo glances back over his shoulder, watching both of us with the pleased expression of a man who’s just spotted a clue nobody else has noticed.
They disappear into the executive suite before either of them looks back, and I force my attention onto the launch schedule clipped to my tablet instead of the door they’ve just walked through.
By the time we reach reception, the first clients are stepping through the revolving doors, conversations blending into the steady stream of arrivals as reception staff welcome guests and Marketing swoops in with practiced enthusiasm.
I tuck my phone away completely and switch back into work mode, greeting clients without letting my attention stray far from the clock.
Everything holds together beautifully until my headset crackles against my ear. “Emma, where are you?”
Raj’s words tumble over each other quickly enough that I start walking before he finishes.
“Reception.”
“I need you in Control. Now.”
My stomach tightens. “What happened?”
“I’ll explain when you get here.”
I weave through the corridor, duck past two engineers wrestling with a display stand and push into the control room where every screen seems determined to announce bad news in a different font.
Authentication Failed.
Connection Refused.
Encrypted Database Unavailable.
Raj spins his chair toward me, one hand still flying across his keyboard. “I’ve isolated it to the staging environment. Someone got in.”
“How long ago?”
“I’m tracing it now.” His eyes flick between three monitors. “Fifteen minutes. Maybe less.”
“The production servers?”
“They’re clean.”
I swallow hard. “The demo?”
He grimaces. “That’s the bit currently on fire.”
Around us, conversations overlap as developers compare logs, someone from Infrastructure argues with Cybersecurity over packet captures, and a technician quietly mutters words that would make HR develop a migraine.
“How long?”
Raj doesn’t even pretend to soften the answer. “If you want everything back exactly as it was?” He checks another window. “Hours.”
I look at the countdown timer mounted above the monitors.
Eighteen minutes.
I pull the presentation schedule onto the center display. “We stop trying to save all of it.”
Raj looks over. “What?”
“The clients aren’t buying every feature today. They’re buying confidence.” I zoom into the running order and tap the screen. “Open with the cybersecurity analytics. Move threat detection ahead of predictive reporting, cut the live dashboard completely and swap in yesterday’s verified build. Nobody outside this room knows what order they were supposed to see it in.”
