The lock clicked softly.It was not a dramatic sound. No metallic finality. Just a quiet confirmation that what followed would not be interrupted, diluted, or escaped.Lillian felt it more than she heard it.Beatrice removed her hand from the device and returned it to the table, folding her fingers together with deliberate care. Her movements were precise, almost ritualistic.“This room is shielded,” Beatrice said. “No audio transmission. No staff access. The walls are reinforced. We can speak freely.”Lillian remained standing.Her heart was beating too fast now, but her thoughts were strangely clear. The fragments, the name, the collapse, they all aligned into a single vec
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