Thomas Chin stepped onto the rooftop and the atmosphere changed instantly.

Conversations died down, glasses paused mid-air, and even the music felt suddenly distant, like it knew it no longer mattered. Derek’s confident smile stayed fixed for a moment too long, the kind of expression people use when they believe they are still in control of a room that has already shifted.

Thomas didn’t look at Derek first. He looked at me. Then he nodded once.

“Ms. Marsh,” he said calmly.

My mother stiffened. My father frowned. Derek gave a short, dismissive laugh, as if this was some clerical error that could be corrected with confidence alone.

Thomas finally turned to him. “There is no error.” He opened the leather folder in his hands, and the soft sound of paper turning carried farther than the music ever had. “This event is being held on property owned by Skyline Tower Holdings. The final authorization was contingent upon disclosure of ownership, which was not properly acknowledged in the booking agreement.” Derek scoffed immediately. “We booked this months ago. My parents paid for it.” Thomas’s expression didn’t change. “They paid the invoice.” Then he looked at me again. “The owner is present.”