The lobby of the Hancock Group building was a cavern of white marble and polished steel.
Helena and Alaina walked through the revolving glass doors. Heads turned immediately. Whispers hissed through the air as employees recognized the two daughters of the CEO.
They walked straight to the private elevators and rode up to the top floor.
The Human Resources Director stood waiting for them in his glass-walled office. He wore a tight smile that did not reach his eyes.
"Welcome to the company, ladies," the Director said. He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.
He handed them each a thick packet of paperwork.
"Miss Alaina," the Director said, his voice warming up. "You will be joining Design Group Two. It is our core evening wear design team, led by Mr. Sterling. He is one of our best."
Alaina's face lit up. She clutched her packet tightly to her chest. "Thank you so much."
Helena smiled for her. Group Two was the elite team.
The Director turned his head to look at Helena. His smile became stiff and mechanical.
"Miss Helena," he said. "You will be in Design Group One."
Behind the Director, a young HR assistant holding a clipboard suddenly looked down at her shoes. Helena saw the pity flash in the girl's eyes.
Her stomach tightened.
"What does my sister's team do?" Alaina asked happily.
The Director cleared his throat. "Group One handles... special projects. More experimental concepts."
Experimental. In corporate language, that meant a graveyard.
"The assistant will show you to your floors," the Director said, standing up to signal the meeting was over.
The young HR assistant led them back to the elevator. The doors slid shut.
The elevator stopped on the twentieth floor.
"Good luck, Alaina," Helena said.
Alaina hugged her quickly and stepped off the elevator. The doors closed again, leaving Helena alone with the assistant.
The elevator began to drop.
The assistant shifted her weight from foot to foot. She looked at the security camera, then looked at Helena.
"Miss Hancock," the assistant whispered quickly. "About Design Group One... you should be prepared."
"Prepared for what?" Helena asked, keeping her voice calm.
"It is... different," the assistant said, her eyes darting nervously. "It is where they send designers who are too difficult to manage. Or who are not performing. We call it the Island of Misfit Toys."
Helena felt a cold knot form in her chest.
"The team leader, Lysander, is a genius," the assistant added. "But he is notoriously eccentric. No one has stayed in that group for more than six months."
Helena stared at the metal doors. Hayward. He had arranged this. He wanted her to quit.
The elevator dinged at the twelfth floor. The doors opened.
The hallway looked nothing like the rest of the building. The walls were covered in chaotic, spray-painted graffiti. Music thumped faintly from behind a heavy metal door at the end of the hall.
The assistant pointed to the door. "This is it. Good luck."
The girl hit the lobby button and the elevator doors shut instantly, as if she were fleeing a fire.
Helena stood alone in the hallway. She looked at the metal door. She felt the familiar urge to rub the seam of her dress, but she stopped herself.
She let out a slow breath. Hayward wanted her to break.
She walked down the hall, grabbed the heavy metal handle, and pushed the door open.
