Morning had fully claimed the city by the time Riley finished dressing.
Crisp charcoal suit. White shirt. Cufflinks aligned with habitual precision. Every movement was economical, controlled—nothing wasted, nothing rushed. He slipped on his watch, adjusted it once, then reached for his phone.
The screen lit up.
Ethan answered on the second ring.
"Morning," Ethan said, voice already lively. "You're early, as usual."
Riley glanced at the time. "Normal schedule."
There was a pause. The faint sound of a keyboard in the background.
"…Right," Ethan replied slowly, clearly unconvinced.
Riley picked up his car keys, then spoke again—tone casual, almost detached.
"Has Stephanie arrived at work yet?"
Silence.
Then—
"…Wow."
Riley stopped mid-step. "Answer the question."
Ethan laughed softly, disbelief dripping from it. "She arrived fifteen minutes ago. Early. I saw her badge log."
Another pause, heavier this time.
"And," Ethan added, "I have to ask—are you feeling alright?"
