It was still dark when Thiago woke up. Not the kind of darkness that meant night, but the heavy, gray kind that came just before sunrise—when everything was quiet, and it felt like the world was holding its breath.
He got dressed slowly. His backpack sat by the door, packed since last night. A plain black duffel bag rested next to it. Marina said he didn't need much for now—just a few essentials. The club would take care of the rest once he arrived in Germany.
He checked his phone. One message from Marina.
"Car will be there in 30 mins. Don't worry about anything. I've got it handled."
Thiago didn't reply. Not because he was ignoring her, but because there was nothing else to say.
