Nia was helping a new employee find a meeting room.

Rosa wheeled her cleaning cart toward the service corridor, taking the route that made practical sense for her equipment rather than one imposed to make executives comfortable.

Daniel greeted everyone passing the security desk with the same professional courtesy.

When I reached the elevator, I heard a voice behind me.

“Excuse me, are you Amelia Mercer?”

A young woman in a simple black jacket stood with a folder pressed against her chest.

Her badge was new.