The Name Beneath the Silence
London was humming — not with noise, but with anticipation. The city pressed in around Lex: metallic skies, headlights reflected in puddles, a cold bite in the air that made everything feel sharper.
Inside the glass tower, the boardroom was all polished chrome and tension. Sky leaned over a sleek tablet, Manik was reviewing projections. Lex stood near the window, half-listening.
Numbers. Strategy. The usual.
Until—
The door clicked.
A new voice: "Sorry I'm late. Flight delay."
Lex turned.
And the air stopped moving.
The woman entering the room was poised, professional, dressed in a dark blazer and silk blouse — but Lex didn't see the clothes. She saw the face. Softer now. Older. But unmistakable.
Muri.
Except—no one called her that now.
The name tag on her lanyard read: Rhea Malin.
Senior Consultant. Zurich Branch.
Lex's breath caught.
Muri. Here. In this room.
She hadn't seen her in what—five years?
A memory flashed. A rooftop. Rain hitting collarbones. Lips brushing in the dark. A promise they were too young to keep.
Lex blinked. Kept her face unreadable.
Rhea glanced at her, and for a moment — nothing. Just polite indifference. Professional calm.
Then her eyes flickered.
Just slightly.
Recognition.
But she said nothing. Didn't smile. Didn't flinch.
"Let's begin," Rhea said smoothly, taking her seat across the table.
After the Meeting
Lex left the room first, heart pounding. Sky noticed but didn't ask.
Down the corridor, she leaned against the wall, trying to breathe.
The voice. The eyes. That almost-smile.
Had Muri truly not remembered? Or was she pretending?
A moment later, footsteps echoed.
Rhea turned the corner. Alone. Confident.
She paused when she saw Lex.
A silence stretched between them.
"You've changed," Rhea said finally. Her voice lower than Lex remembered. Calmer. Like someone who'd spent years burying something important.
"So have you," Lex replied.
Rhea gave a faint smile — but it didn't reach her eyes. "We're different people now. You said we would be."
Lex's voice dropped. "That doesn't mean I stopped remembering."
Rhea's gaze hardened. "Memories don't change facts. What happened… ended. It had to."
Lex took a step closer. "Then why use a new name?"
That hit something.
Rhea looked away. "Because some names come with shadows."
Another pause.
Lex's voice softened. "Muri—"
"Don't," Rhea said sharply, eyes flashing. "Not here."
She turned, heels clicking as she walked away, leaving Lex standing in the hallway, still reeling.
Later That Night
Back in her hotel room, Lex sat alone, replaying the moment again and again.
The look in Rhea's eyes. The edge in her voice. The hurt behind the control.
The past wasn't dead. It was walking, breathing, sitting across from her in a boardroom.
And whatever happened next… wasn't going to be simple.