The staff lounge was louder than usual.
Not the easy, end-of-shift noise of cups clinking and chairs scraping, but the low, contained buzz that came when something had happened and everyone was still processing it. Conversations overlapped, then dropped into hushed tones the moment someone unfamiliar walked past the open doorway.
Mina felt it the instant she stepped in.
Lira spotted her and immediately waved her over, eyes bright with the kind of energy that meant she was sitting on information she wasn't supposed to spread, and absolutely intended to.
"Come, come," Lira said, tugging a chair closer. "You walked in at the perfect moment."
Mina glanced around. Rhea stood near the counter with her arms folded, expression tight. Tomas leaned against the far wall, silent but attentive. A few other staff members lingered in small clusters, pretending to scroll on their devices while very clearly listening.
"This doesn't look like break-time chatter," Mina said quietly.
"It isn't," Lira replied, lowering her voice. "It's a cautionary tale."
Rhea finally spoke. "Someone crossed a boundary."
The room stilled.
"A resident boundary," Tomas added flatly.
Mina's stomach tightened. "A staff member?"
Lira nodded. "A woman. Senior assistant. Not new, not careless. Thought she was smart enough to bend the rules without breaking them."
Rhea's lips pressed into a thin line. "She worked in resident coordination. Had access to schedules, preferences, movement patterns."
Mina's mind immediately went to how carefully those were controlled. "What did she do?"
"At first?" Lira said. "Nothing that could be written up. She positioned herself where one of the heirs would pass regularly. Made sure she was always the one delivering reports. Adjusted timing so their paths crossed more often."
"That's still protocol-adjacent," Mina said.
"Exactly," Tomas replied. "That's why it wasn't stopped."
Rhea continued, voice steady. "Then she started dressing differently. Not against code. Just… intentional. And she spoke when she wasn't spoken to. Comments about work, at first. Then about the resident himself."
Mina felt a chill. "Did he respond?"
"He didn't acknowledge her at all," Lira said. "Which she took as mystery instead of dismissal."
"What was the line?" Mina asked.
Rhea met her eyes. "She asked for a private conversation. Not through channels. Not through the system. In person."
The silence that followed was heavy.
"That," Tomas said quietly, "is solicitation."
"And entitlement," Nessa added from her seat near the window. "She assumed proximity meant access."
Mina swallowed. "What happened to her?"
Lira let out a slow breath. "She was removed from the residence the same day."
"Fired?" Mina asked.
Rhea shook her head. "Her contract was nullified for breach. Which is worse."
Mina's heart sank. "Because of the penalties."
"Because of the mark," Tomas said.
Lira nodded. "Consortium systems flagged her. Access revoked. Credentials voided. Wage vault frozen pending damages."
"Damages?" Mina echoed.
Nessa's voice was calm, almost clinical. "Disruption risk. Security review costs. Breach of proximity protocol."
The words sounded abstract. The consequences did not.
"She lost her housing," Lira said quietly. "Her stipend. Her medical tier. Everything tied to Helix sponsorship."
"And outside?" Mina asked.
Tomas's jaw tightened. "No institution would touch her. Not after that kind of notation."
Mina's chest felt tight. "Where is she now?"
Rhea looked away. "Not in Aurelion."
The implication settled like cold water.
Lira broke the silence, softer now. "They didn't ruin her out of spite. They made an example because they had to."
"Because if one person blurs the line," Nessa said, "others start testing it."
Mina thought of the residents' presence, contained, distant, absolute. Of the way the building itself seemed designed to keep everyone in their place.
"So the rule isn't just don't flirt," she said quietly.
Rhea shook her head. "The rule is don't imagine."
Lira leaned closer to Mina. "Don't imagine you're an exception. Don't imagine you're different. Don't imagine attention is invitation."
Mina nodded slowly.
She had lived in a world where attention meant danger.
This world, she realized, was no different, only the consequences were quieter, cleaner, and far more final.
As the lounge gradually returned to normal noise, Lira touched her arm gently. "This isn't meant to scare you. It's meant to protect you."
Mina understood.
Helix wasn't strict because it was cruel.
It was strict because once a line was crossed, there was no coming back.
And everyone here knew it