The second morning, sunlight spilled through the wide windows of the hotel room, soft and golden, pooling over the marble floors like melted honey. For once, the world felt quiet. No calls from investors. No reporters asking for statements. Just silence, the kind I hadn’t known in years.

I stood before the mirror, wrapped in a robe, staring at the woman reflected back at me. Nova West, no, just Nova, finally. The name felt strange on my tongue, almost too light, as if I might lose it if I ...