The office is quiet in the way it gets after most people have left. When the building feels less like a workplace and more like a structure waiting for something to happen inside it.
Andrew stands near the window, a tablet in his hand. The glow from the screen reflects faintly in the glass, layered over the city lights beyond it. He doesn't look up when the door opens.
Vincent enters without announcing himself. "How far along has this gone?"
Andrew's thumb stills against the screen. "Enough to be noticed. Not enough to be defined."
Vincent considers that. "And the source?"
Andrew turns slightly, just enough to acknowledge the question. "Diffuse," he says. "No single point of origin. But there are…centers."
Vincent's gaze sharpens, though his expression doesn't change. "Names?"
"Nothing definitive yet," Andrew answers. "But there are possibilities." He moves toward the window, stopping just short of it. The city moves below them, unaware.
"How much do you want to tell her?"
Vincent takes in the question as if he's been asked five at once. "Not much," he says finally. "Not yet."
The words settle between them. Andrew says nothing, but his gaze lingers just long enough to register the choice.
Whenever Vincent talks about her, something in him shifts. "She'll know what she needs to know."
"Fair enough," Andrew says, a touch too quickly. "But it would be prudent to make monitoring this our top priority."
He glances back at the tablet. "There's a shift in how people are speaking," he adds. "More direct. Less careful."
Vincent nods once, almost to himself. "That tends to happen," he says, "when people think they've found each other."
He moves toward the door. "Let's not overreact. That creates attention."
Andrew nods. "Agreed."
Vincent opens the door, then pauses. Just enough to leave one final thought behind.
"People don't usually organize because they're confused," he says. "They organize because something has become clear."
Then he's gone. The room settles again.
Andrew looks back at the tablet. His thumb hovers.
Then stills.