Outside, the river light faded. Somewhere, in a data center across the ocean, a seven-day ghost waited to be either bought or deleted.
Back in the garage, Maya opened her laptop to transfer the master files to the firm's archive. The screen glowed.
Maya ignored it. She dove into the thermal analysis. The software mapped heat bleeding through the old brick and offered a solution: a living wall of moss and ferns, integrated into the new skin. She designed it down to the irrigation channels, her fingers dancing across the trackpad.
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.
When the video ended, he turned to Maya. "How did you do this in a week?"
