Chapter 11: Whitmore Foundation Hall

The Whitmore Foundation Hall stood apart from the rest of Virex City not by height or spectacle but by restraint. Pale stone walls and dark timber beams framed the building with deliberate simplicity. It was set back from the main avenue as if distance had been chosen rather than granted.

Lillian arrived ten minutes early.

She wore a simple ivory dress with long sleeves and clean lines. Modest enough to avoid attention. Structured enough to avoid apology. Her hair was pinned back neatly. No jewelry beyond a thin silver chain. She carried a leather portfolio instead of a handbag. A working woman’s armor.

At the entrance, a young attendant greeted her by name before she spoke it.

“Miss Bloom. Welcome.”

The recognition was intentional.

Inside, the hall was cool and softly lit. High ceilings arched overhead. Marble floors bore a satin finish dulled by time rather than polish. Floral arrangements lined the walls, elegant and restrained, each tagged discreetly with the name of a donor famil