The ride downtown in her father’s sleek, black car was a blur of towering buildings and bustling streets. Delia watched the city pass by, a silent observer in a world that felt both familiar and utterly foreign. The weight of the morning’s conversation, the reality of the impending divorce, and the prospect of stepping into this new role settled in her stomach like a stone.
Martin, sensing her quiet contemplation, didn’t push for conversation. He occasionally pointed out a landmark or offered a brief comment about the traffic, but mostly he allowed her the space to process. It was a quiet support that Delia deeply appreciated.
They arrived at a modern, glass-fronted building that seemed to pierce the sky. The company logo, a stylized, elegant symbol, was etched discreetly on the entrance
