A knot tightened in Elara’s stomach as she navigated the sleek, glass-walled corridors of Thorne Enterprises. Her heels clicked a nervous rhythm on the polished floor, each echo amplifying the tremor in her hands. She clutched the faded blueprint, a silent accusation. This was it. The moment she confronted Alice. Finding Alice Chan’s office hadn’t been difficult. Alice, a former colleague from her old firm, had always been meticulous about her career trajectory. Elara recalled hushed rumors about Alice landing a coveted position here years ago, a move Elara had vaguely admired at the time. Spotting Alice through a half-open door, Elara’s breath hitched. Alice sat hunched over a desk, her familiar glasses perched on her nose, a pen tapping against a stack of papers. She looked older, lines of stress etched around her eyes, but the determined set of her jaw was unchanged. “Alice?” Elara’s voice was softer than she intended, a ghost of their old camaraderie clinging to the word. Alice’s head snapped up. Her eyes, initially wide with surprise, narrowed slightly. A flash of something unreadable crossed her features before she managed a strained smile. “Elara? Is that really you? What are you doing here?” Stepping into the office, Elara felt the weight of her purpose settle. “I need to talk to you. It’s important. About a design.” Alice’s smile faltered. She pushed her chair back, a subtle movement, but Elara noticed. “A design? What are you talking about? Are you working with Thorne now?” “No,” Elara said, her voice hardening. She laid the rolled-up blueprint on Alice’s desk, carefully unrolling a portion. The faint lines of the 1978 design were visible. “This design. My design. It appeared in a competition, stolen. But now I find it here, on a Thorne blueprint from 1978.” Alice leaned forward, her gaze sweeping over the ancient document. Her eyes widened again, this time with genuine alarm. Her fingers twitched, brushing against the aged paper. “What is this? This is… it’s impossible.” “Exactly,” Elara pressed, watching Alice’s reaction like a hawk. “You worked with me. You know my work. You saw the early sketches of the Lumina Tower concept. The unique cantilevered sections, the spiraling facade, the light-refracting panels. It’s all here, Alice. On a blueprint dated decades before I was even born.” Alice recoiled, shaking her head. Her lips were pressed into a thin line. “Elara, I… I don’t know anything about this. This must be a mistake. A coincidence. Architectural elements can be similar.” “Not like this,” Elara insisted, her voice rising slightly. “This isn’t a coincidence. This is a direct copy. And the competition entry that stole it was nearly identical to *this*.” She pointed to a specific section of the old blueprint. “How could my design exist in 1978? And how did it resurface now, in a competition that nearly ruined me?” Alice’s eyes darted around the room, avoiding Elara’s gaze. Her hands gripped the edge of her desk. Her face had gone pale, a sheen of sweat forming on her brow. “I… I really can’t help you, Elara. This is outside my purview. I work on current projects. Old archives… I wouldn’t know anything about them.” “But you know Thorne Enterprises,” Elara argued, her frustration mounting. “You’ve been here for years. Did you ever see anything like this? Any discussions? Any old files? The signature on this blueprint is ‘A. Caldwell.’ Does that name mean anything to you?” Alice visibly flinched at the name. A micro-expression of pure terror flickered across her features, gone in an instant, replaced by a forced blankness. “Caldwell? No, I don’t think so. I mean, Thorne is a huge company. Many people have worked here over the decades. It’s just… an old blueprint. Things get archived.” “You’re lying, Alice.” The words hung heavy in the air. Elara saw the way Alice’s jaw clenched, the slight tremor in her hands. “I remember you. You were always meticulous. You’d know if something like this was floating around. You always had an ear to the ground.” “I’m not lying, Elara!” Alice’s voice was sharp, a little too loud. She glanced towards her open office door, then quickly lowered her tone. “Look, I sympathize. I really do. But you’re chasing ghosts. This whole thing sounds… improbable. Maybe you should just let it go.” Let it go? Elara scoffed. After everything? After the stolen designs, the ruined reputation, the fight for her firm’s survival? Letting go was not an option. Alice was clearly terrified, not just dismissive. Someone had gotten to her. Or she was involved. “I won’t let it go, Alice,” Elara stated, her voice cold and resolute. She rolled up the blueprint. “And I think you know more than you’re letting on. A lot more.” Watching Alice’s trembling hands and evasive eyes, Elara knew she wouldn’t get any direct answers here. Not now. Alice was cornered, afraid, and clearly unwilling to risk whatever consequences might come from speaking truthfully. This wasn’t the quiet, determined colleague she remembered. This was a woman trapped. Leaving Alice’s office, Elara felt a chill deeper than the building’s air conditioning. The encounter had confirmed her fears: the conspiracy was deeper, more intricate than she’d imagined, and it reached into the very fabric of Thorne Enterprises. Alice’s fear was palpable, a silent scream of warning. Minutes later, as Elara waited for the elevator, she saw Alice emerge from her office, clutching her phone. Alice’s back was to her, but Elara could hear the hushed, urgent tone of her voice. “He’s here. She knows. About the blueprint… I told her nothing, absolutely nothing, I swear.” Catching Alice’s reflection in the elevator’s polished doors, Elara watched as Alice’s head whipped around, her eyes wide with panic. The colleague’s gaze swept the corridor, settling on Elara for a fraction of a second. Fear, pure and unadulterated, contorted Alice’s face before she quickly averted her eyes, pressing the phone harder to her ear, whispering feverishly into it. Someone powerful was pulling Alice’s strings, and Elara had just made herself a target.

Chapter 18: A Quiet Betrayal