The hall glowed under the harsh white lights, a sea of cameras and restless whispers rising like a tide. Every screen in the Ministry's auditorium flickered in anticipation as Mary stepped into view.
She walked forward in a tailored charcoal-grey suit, sharp shoulders, crisp white inner shirt, and a narrow black belt that framed her slender silhouette. Her heels made a steady, rhythmic sound against the polished floor, and the spotlight followed her, bathing her in a cold halo that made the murmurs intensify.
All around her, reporters leaned forward. Officials straightened their backs. Security personnel adjusted their comms.
She caught sight of her team near the first row formal, composed, eyes fixed on her but Mary's gaze cut past them. Her eyes were steady, fierce, unblinking. She ascended the steps of the stage with the precision of someone who had practiced grace under pressure for far too long.
When she reached the podium, the whispers dissolved into silence.
Her fingers touched the mic.
She inhaled once. Then her voice filled the hall.
"The government earlier today has unveiled Project Marine," she announced, her tone carrying the calm authority that had made her the face of the Ministry's major projects. "This initiative strengthens our marine security capabilities and fortifies our borders along the coastline. The future looks promising and bright. This project will stand as a testimony of our commitment to safeguard our territory and to show the world that we are emerging stronger than ever."
A flash of light burst from the cameras.
"With this, we conclude today's presentation. All further updates will be available on the exclusive project portal. Thank you."
She bowed her head, controlled and elegant.
Immediately, chaos erupted; reporters surged forward, calling her name, shouting questions, extending microphones toward her. But she wore her flawless professional smile, a shield she'd perfected over years. Without breaking stride, she descended the stage and walked through the crowd, her security personnel sealing the path around her.
Outside the hall, Leola Justin; her young assistant, always energetic, always too amused by Mary's public image, quickened her steps to catch up.
"Ma'am!" she gasped, holding her tablet. "The live stream just hit 1.2 million viewers. One point two million! You're going viral again. Twitter is literally exploding."
Leola practically bounced as she said it.
Mary chuckled softly, indulgent. "Focus, Leola."
"I am focused," Leola protested. "Just… focused on your fame."
Mary shook her head, amused but already slipping back into work mode.
"Send me the comparative reports from the previous maritime security projects," she instructed. "I want the failure points highlighted in red and the efficiency upgrades marked separately. And check with the analytics team about the portal's server load. Last thing we need is a crash tonight."
"Already on it," Leola said, typing rapidly. She admired Mary too much to ever fall behind.
They exited the Ministry of Home Affairs building, the last traces of sunset painting the sky a dull orange. Their cars waited at the curb; sleek, dark, tinted.
For the first time in weeks, Mary's shoulders eased.
Today, she was leaving early.
After countless nights spent in rushed meetings, last-minute edits, crisis calls, and endless coffee, Project Marine had finally been unveiled. She could finally breathe.
She sank into the driver's seat of her car and closed the door, letting silence wrap around her like a blanket. Then she started the engine and pulled out of the parking lane.
Tonight wasn't about ministers, deadlines, or national security.
Tonight was about nostalgia.
A college reunion; almost a decade since she'd seen most of them.
Except, of course, for her two closest friends, Elizabeth and Daisy. They were the only ones she'd stayed in touch with. The rest? Life had swallowed everyone in different directions.
And then there was… him.
Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel involuntarily.
The moment she thought of him, a face flickered in her subconscious; annoyingly vivid, annoyingly familiar. A face that once felt like home. A laugh she could still hear. Eyes she had once memorized.
And it irritated her how instantly her stomach twisted.
Ugh, not this again.
She shook her head like she could physically fling him out of her thoughts.
"Come on," she muttered to herself. "Don't think about him. He probably doesn't even remember your name by now."
But the ache in her voice betrayed her.
The truth was simple:
She wasn't ready to see him again.
She wasn't even sure she could.
Yet tonight… fate had its own plans.
And as the city lights blurred past her window, Mary had no idea that the reunion she was driving toward would change her life all over again.