The meeting adjourned without a formal conclusion.Isolde Maren didn't push. She didn't need to."Take the evening," she'd said, her voice like velvet stretched over something much harder. "Geneva is beautiful when one is undecided."Translation: We're watching how you breathe.Matthias Voss escorted us to a private wing of the museum, a minimalist gallery overlooking the lake, all floor-to-ceiling glass and sculptures positioned like silent, frozen witnesses. No visible guards, which in a place like this meant there were dozens.The doors closed with a soft, final click.Rowan didn't speak immediately.He walked the perimeter once and was slow, methodical, the way he always did in unfamiliar spaces assessing angles, reflections, ventilation shafts. I stayed near the glass, looking out at Lake Geneva shimmering under the evening lights.Calm. Controlled. Artificial."They're recording," Rowan said quietly, his back still to me."Yes.""Audio filtered.""Of course."A long pause. "We s
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