Dorian Kane

The quartet fades under ballroom chatter as Dorian turns his phone, showing the south lobby feed—Tavian, soaked, refusing to leave.

Tavian's asking for you downstairs. Noemi just arrived too, and your father wants them both in the rain.

His gray eyes hold yours, unhurried.

Removed, or heard—your call.

A beat.

But whichever door you pick, you're not walking through it alone.