The door to the grand ballroom opened, and a man in a dark grey suit entered, scanning the crowd.

The man in the dark grey suit was named Mr. Vance.

I recognized him from the profile Mr. Han had sent to my tablet earlier that morning.

He walked with a stiff, practiced posture, his eyes scanning the glinting chandeliers and the high-society guests who were starting to notice his presence.

He carried a leather portfolio under his arm, its brass clasp catching the warm light of the ballroom.

Daniel followed my gaze, his head whipping around to look at the entrance.

His face drained of what little color it had left.

“Maya,” Daniel whispered, his voice cracking as he took a step closer to me.

He reached out, his fingers hovering just inches from the sleeve of my silk dress before he hesitated and drew his hand back.

“Please, just tell me what is happening,” he begged.

“You know exactly what is happening, Daniel,” I said.

My voice was quiet, but it carried clearly in the small pocket of space we occupied.