The owner’s office sat above the gym floor, all glass and dark wood. You could see every treadmill from his desk. He wanted it that way.

His name was Harlan. Older. Grey at the temples. The kind of man who didn’t raise his voice because he never needed to. Tasha stood by the wall with her arms folded. Riven took the chair on the left. Knox took the one on the right. I stayed standing until Harlan pointed at the last chair between them.

I sat.

Harlan looked at me first.

“You’re new,” he said. “Two weeks. And already the building is talking about you like you’ve been here for...