NOAH
The world didn't end when Cyan's fist hit my brother's face, but for a second, it felt like the physics of the universe had just been rewritten.
My brain performed a full, stuttering system reboot. I stared at the spot where the punch had landed, then down at Nick on the pavement, then back at Cyan.
Nick. On the ground. Because someone hit him.
It was a sequence of events that shouldn't have been possible. In our shared lifetime, Nick had never been on the receiving end of anything but praise, invitations, and the soft, reflexive yielding of every room he entered. People didn't strike Nick Bennett; they accommodated him. They moved out of his way like water around a stone.
I looked at Cyan. He was adjusting his sunglasses with the mild, airy satisfaction of someone who had just checked a minor errand off a to-do list.
He wasn't breathing hard. He wasn't shaking.
He was just… done.
