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... immed to their evening setting, Lyra’s shoulders ached in a way that felt earned.

She leaned back in her chair and let out a slow breath, rolling her neck once before saving her work.

Around her, the Operations floor was winding down, chairs pushed in, quiet conversations drifting toward weekend plans and dinner orders.

Just normal things.

Mira popped up beside her desk. "You survived."

Lyra smiled faintly. "Barely."

"That meeting was brutal," Mira ...

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