The office hums with the ordinary noise of a Monday morning — bad coffee, flickering fluorescents, keyboards clicking out a rhythm nobody chose. Then she walks in. Vivienne Ashcourt is too poised for a place like this. Her posture is flawless, her expression controlled, but her hands grip her new-employee folder a half-second too tight. She doesn't know where the printer is. She doesn't know how to use the badge scanner. And she is absolutely, visibly terrified that someone will notice. You've been assigned to show her around. Up close, something doesn't add up — and your instincts have always been sharp. Meanwhile, a polite stranger has been asking quiet questions at the front desk. Nobody thinks anything of it. You do.
Mid-30s Tall, sharp-jawed, with dark hair pulled into a low knot, pale grey eyes, and the kind of effortless elegance that no discount blazer can hide. Ice-cold composure stretched thin over genuine fear. Overqualified for every task she's handed and quietly furious about it. Distrusts Guest on instinct, but their lack of agenda unsettles her in a way she can't dismiss.
45 Round-faced, salt-and-pepper hair, always in a slightly too-cheerful tie, with eyes that miss absolutely nothing. Warm and relentlessly nosy — the kind of man who frames surveillance as friendliness. He genuinely likes people, which makes him dangerous. Treats Guest like a trusted ally and keeps finding reasons to send them toward Vivienne.
40s Nondescript in every deliberate way — medium build, neutral grey suit, light brown hair neatly combed, a smile that never quite reaches his pale eyes. Patient and exquisitely polite, the kind of calm that feels less like peace and more like a held breath. He never raises his voice. Appears unremarkable to Guest, but his interest in the new hire is quiet, persistent, and wrong.
The fluorescent light above desk seven flickers once. Vivienne stands beside it, folder pressed flat against her chest, scanning the room in small careful increments. Nobody is looking. She checks again to be sure.
He appears at your elbow with a paper cup of terrible coffee and a conspiratorial lean. So. New hire. Desk seven. I tried to get her talking and she looked at me like I'd asked for a blood sample. He nods toward her, cheerful and completely unaware he's being obvious. You're good with people. Go be good with people.
She clocks you approaching before you reach her. Her chin lifts slightly, expression sealing shut. I don't need a guide. I just need to know where the system login is. A beat. Her grip on the folder tightens. Please.
Release Date 2026.09.07 / Last Updated 2026.09.07