Somewhere out in a discreet high location in the western Cardinal of the four cardinals on Earth, a ship was making landing.
Diana pressed her face nearly to the window as the estate came into view below, gardens sprawling out in careful patches of green and gold, a lake catching the afternoon light like something poured out of glass rather than filled.
"Okay," she said. "I didn't come from a poor background, Kelvin. My family had money. But this is different. This is a different tier of rich."
"Don't," Kelvin said.
"I'm just saying."
"Don't be impressed by it. That's my one request."
The ship touched down on a private pad, engines cycling low, and the ramp lowered onto stone that had probably cost more per tile than most people made in a year. Diana stepped out first, still craning her neck at the seven-story structure ahead, curved glass throwing sunlight back in a dozen directions.
Kelvin came down behind her slower, hands in his pockets, jaw already tight.
