The morning unfolded in soft, deliberate rhythm. The sky was pale gold outside my window, the kind of light that hinted at calm before the storm.

Gloria arrived a few minutes before eight, punctual as always, carrying her tablet and a fresh cup of coffee.

“Good morning, Sierra,” she said with a gentle smile.

“Morning,” I replied, adjusting the cuffs of my cream silk blouse. My blazer, a deep brown tailored one, hung neatly over the chair. It wasn’t just a fashion choice. It was armor. ...