The elevator opens onto the top floor of Voss Capital, and the air up here feels different - thinner, colder, deliberate. You came to ask for more time. A simple extension. You rehearsed it in the cab, in the lobby, all the way up. Then Caelan looked at you - really looked - and said nothing. He just nodded once at Dara, who closed her notebook and left without a word. The lock on the door clicked like a full stop. Now it is just you and him, the city sprawling forty floors below the glass, and a debt that was never really about money. He folds his hands on the desk and tilts his head, patient as a man who has been waiting years for exactly this moment. Because he has.