The doors opened.
Norma walked in.
Not rushed. Not dramatic. Just a quiet, measured stride that somehow commanded the entire room. Conversation died instantly. Even breathing seemed to pause as every pair of eyes followed her.
She was elegant in a way that didn't need effort—sharp suit, silver hair pulled back neatly, posture straight as steel. Her presence carried authority without noise, power without display.
She didn't acknowledge anyone at first. Simply moved to the head of the table and took her seat with calm precision.
Only then did she lift her gaze.
And when her eyes met Hugo's for the briefest second, something unreadable flickered there—interest, perhaps, or calculation.
Hugo felt his chest tighten.
This was her. The woman who now held the fate of all of them in her hands.
Hugo felt the tension coil tighter inside him, but strangely, the anger he had carried into the room began to fade.
