Her heart stopped.
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Maya stared at the blinking cursor on her screen. The deadline was a concrete wall seven days away, and she was armed with nothing but a cracked coffee mug and a free trial of Formit Pro.
The tech mogul leaned back in his chair, watching the flythrough on the eighty-inch screen. His silence stretched like a held breath.
Can you advance 15% of the fee? Just enough for a software license.
Outside, the river light faded. Somewhere, in a data center across the ocean, a seven-day ghost waited to be either bought or deleted.
"Seven days is enough," she whispered, cracking her knuckles. "It has to be."
She smiled. "I had the right tool."