Run: 2026-02-22-01KJ368WTEWHBPPATX12Q1FGK6

Mara did not wish to be present there. She had vowed to herself that she would not return, yet here she stood in the lobby of the building she had left three years before. It had not been intended that it should feel this way. "You are late," said the receptionist, a young man who did not raise his eyes from his screen. He had been typing something, and he did not cease. "She is waiting in the conference room. You will want to hurry—she is not in a cheerful disposition." Mara could not discern whether that remark was meant as a warning or merely casual conversation. She was not certain it mattered. She had already made her decision, and there was no point in reconsidering it now. The hallway had not altered. The same grey carpet, the same harsh lighting, the same faint scent of coffee that had been left too long. Mara would not have been surprised to find her old nameplate still affixed to the door, but it was not there. Instead, someone else’s name had taken its place. "I did not think you would actually show up," said Priya, who had risen from her chair the moment Mara entered. She was not smiling. "We have encountered a difficulty, and you are the sole individual who can assist." "I am not certain that is accurate," Mara replied. "I have not been engaged in the project for years. I would not know where to commence." "You would be astonished," Priya said. "It is the same codebase. They have not altered the fundamental modules. You would recognize it immediately." Mara did not respond immediately. She had already told herself she would not be drawn back in. Yet she had not anticipated Priya asking in person. That was not fair—it is harder to refuse someone when they are looking at you directly. "I shall consider it," she said. That was not a definitive yes, and they both knew it was not a clear no either.