Thunder rolled in the distance, a low rumble reflecting the storm’s persistent presence. Juniper reached for another file, her dress hem riding up slightly as she stretched. In the window’s reflection, she caught Daniel’s gaze following the movement before he quickly looked away, his jaw tightening as he forced his attention back to the documents scattered between them.

The night was far from over, and the storm was just beginning.

The conference room felt smaller with each passing hour, the sprawl of papers and exhibits forcing them to work in ever-closer proximity. Juniper found herself unconsciously positioning herself between Daniel and the door each time she moved, as if her presence alone could keep him focused on their work rather than whatever kept lighting up his device.

“Sophia’s cross-reference analysis came through,” Daniel said, his voice cutting through the quiet. “She found some interesting parallels between the derivative works and prior arts and the summarizer’s output before heading home.”

“At least someone has a normal schedule,” Juniper said, instantly regretting how her words highlighted their own complicated situation. To hide the flush creeping up her neck, she turned toward the windows. “I hadn’t noticed before, but the flooding exposed those root systems out there,” she remarked, gesturing toward the distant forest that lay far beyond the city yet remained visible. “Even from here, the way they’re illuminated by the snow at night is almost hauntingly beautiful.”