The awakening from yesterday doesn't fade.
It sharpens.
I wake before Ethan, before the city, before the sun fully stretches across the skyline. The quiet feels different this morning—not heavy, not anxious. Focused. I didn't reach for her phone immediately. I search for clarity.
By the time Ethan stirs, I'm already seated at the dining table with my laptop open, hair loosely pinned back, and coffee untouched but cooling beside me.
"Couldn't sleep?" Ethan murmurs, voice thick with early morning warmth.
"I slept," I reply calmly. "I just woke up… thinking."
He smiles faintly. "That sounds dangerous."
I look up at him, and for a brief second, my expression softens. "Only for the people who underestimate me."
He chuckles, not realizing the weight behind it. And that's exactly how I need it.
