Aurora remained in front of the window longer than necessary.
Outside, the city had already lost the colors of the day.
All that remained were the lights from the apartments, the cars far below, and a dark sky where even the clouds were difficult to make out.
Behind her, on the table, was still the folder she had brought home.
She hadn't needed to open it.
She already knew what was written on the first page.
THE SPACE BETWEEN US.
And right beneath it:
Aurora Winters — Director
Director.
That word seemed to carry a different weight every time she thought about it.
She had spent years watching.
Learning.
Staying a few extra hours when she could have gone home.
Asking questions about things that weren't even part of her job.
Starting tomorrow, she wouldn't just be watching someone else make the decisions.
Some of those decisions would be hers.
Aurora lifted her gaze slightly toward the sky.
She smiled.
Then turned off the light.
On the other side of the city, Leon closed his laptop.
The apartment was silent.
A few documents remained on the desk, along with his phone and a copy of The Space Between Us, its margins covered in notes.
He had worked enough.
He picked up the cup beside his computer.
The coffee was almost cold.
He drank it anyway.
Then he stood.
The floor-to-ceiling window behind his desk took up almost the entire wall.
Leon stopped in front of it, the cup still between his fingers.
The city stretched out far below.
Tomorrow, they would really begin.
Not a proposal.
Not an agreement.
The work.
Leon took the last sip.
He left the cup on the desk.
Then turned off the light.
The following morning, Aurora arrived before eight.
When the elevator doors opened, the floor was still silent.
Perfect.
She had slept less than she should have, and despite that, she felt more awake than usual.
She walked down the hallway with her bag over her shoulder.
As she passed the glass wall, her eyes drifted toward Leon's office.
Empty.
Aurora kept walking.
Only a few steps later did she realize she had checked.
It didn't matter.
She reached her workstation, set down her bag, and turned on the computer.
The screen remained black.
Aurora waited.
Then she glanced toward the coffee machine.
She could wait over there just as well.
Leon had finished his run a little earlier.
That morning, he hadn't gone back home.
He had gone straight to the building, left his bag in the small space he had arranged at the end of the floor, and stepped into the shower.
It was one of the reasons he had chosen that space.
Less time wasted.
Nothing more.
When he turned off the water, the rest of the floor was still almost completely empty.
Aurora picked up her cup.
With her other hand, she checked her phone as she walked back toward her workstation.
A message from Mia.
I'm on my way.
Aurora started typing a reply.
She looked up too late.
She walked straight into something.
Or rather, someone.
"Ah—"
The cup tilted.
The coffee spilled directly onto the black shirt in front of her.
Aurora froze.
She lowered her eyes.
Stain.
Black.
Black shirt.
Then, slowly, she looked up.
Leon.
"Oh my God."
For a moment, he simply looked down at his shirt.
Aurora felt her face grow warm.
First real day.
It wasn't even eight yet.
And she had already managed to spill coffee all over him.
"I'm sorry."
She immediately set the cup down.
"Wait."
She grabbed some napkins.
One fell.
She picked it up.
And almost dropped the others in the process.
Perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
"Aurora."
She stopped.
Leon simply took the napkins from her hands.
"It's nothing."
"I just spilled coffee all over you."
"I noticed."
Aurora looked at him.
He calmly began blotting his shirt.
Only then did she notice his hair.
It was still damp.
A few wet strands had fallen across his forehead.
Her gaze lingered there a second longer than it should have.
She immediately looked away.
Ridiculous.
She had seen him like that countless times before.
Maybe that was exactly the problem.
"But... where did you come from?"
Leon gave a slight gesture toward the hallway behind him.
"I was in the shower."
Aurora looked in the same direction.
"There's a shower here?"
"There is now."
She looked back at him.
"You had one put in?"
"Fixed up."
"Why?"
Leon threw away the napkins.
"Timing."
Nothing else.
Aurora looked at his still-damp hair.
Then she noticed the gym bag beyond the door at the end of the hallway.
She understood.
Of course.
He still ran.
Something very old crossed her mind.
Shoes by the door.
Mornings when she would wake up and he was already gone.
The sound of the lock when he came back.
It lasted a second.
Maybe less.
Leon walked past her.
Aurora looked at the stain again.
"Really, I'm sorry."
He glanced down at his shirt.
"It's black."
"That doesn't mean it isn't dirty."
Leon looked at her.
"It means you can't see it."
And he continued toward his office.
Aurora stayed where she was.
Her eyes followed him until she saw him go inside.
"Unbelievable."
A muffled laugh came from behind her.
Aurora closed her eyes.
Mia.
She slowly turned around.
Her friend had just stepped out of the elevator.
She had clearly seen enough.
Aurora raised one finger.
"Don't say anything."
Mia pressed her lips together.
She didn't say a word.
The smile remained.
"I said don't say anything."
"I'm not talking."
Aurora picked up her cup.
"That's worse."
Ethan and Rachel arrived shortly afterward.
The floor slowly stopped being silent.
Computers turning on.
Folders opening.
Chairs moving.
Voices.
Once everyone was there, Leon stepped out of his office.
"Five minutes."
Nothing else was needed.
A short while later, they were all sitting around the conference table.
Rachel had a copy of the novel in front of her, covered in annotations.
Mia already had her laptop open.
"First thing," Rachel said. "Structure."
Mia nodded.
"I'd start by separating what we can keep almost intact from what we absolutely need to condense."
Rachel opened the book.
"That's what I worked on last night."
She slid a few pages toward Mia.
"These are the first points."
Aurora leaned forward slightly to look.
Ethan, however, was watching Leon.
More precisely, his shirt.
"What happened to you?"
Aurora stiffened.
Leon glanced down.
The stain was still visible up close.
Aurora suddenly found the pages in front of her incredibly interesting.
"Nothing."
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
Leon opened his folder.
"Can we continue?"
Mia glanced at Aurora.
Aurora didn't look back.
Rachel resumed.
For the next half hour, it was mostly her and Mia discussing the adaptation.
Scenes to shorten.
Passages that could take several minutes on the page but would require only a few seconds on screen.
Moments that, instead, needed room to breathe.
Aurora listened.
Every now and then, she wrote something down.
A couple of times, she spoke.
Not to rewrite anything.
To ask how they imagined a scene.
What the audience was supposed to see.
Leon said little.
Whenever Rachel or Mia asked whether a change altered what he had intended to convey, he answered.
The rest of the time, he listened.
At one point, Aurora stopped writing.
They had reached the final pages.
She knew that ending.
She had read it before she even knew who the author was.
And even then, there had been something about it she hadn't liked.
Not because it was badly written.
Simply because that was where it ended.
Aurora looked up.
"Is the ending staying?"
Mia stopped.
Rachel looked at Leon.
He, instead, looked at Aurora.
"Yes."
She remained still, the pen between her fingers.
"You never thought about changing it for the series?"
"No."
The answer was immediate.
Aurora lowered her gaze to the book for a moment.
"So they separate."
"Yes."
"And that's where it ends."
Leon was silent for a moment.
Then he nodded.
"That's where the story ends."
Aurora looked at him.
She didn't know why that answer left something behind.
Maybe because she had always hated endings that seemed to stop before anything was truly resolved.
Maybe because, when she had first read those final pages, she had felt as though an answer was missing.
"We won't find out why?"
This time, Leon didn't answer immediately.
Rachel stopped moving her pen.
Mia remained silent.
Leon rested one hand on the book.
"No."
Aurora frowned slightly.
"Why?"
Her eyes met Leon's.
Calm.
Impossible to read.
"Because he doesn't tell her."
Silence.
Aurora remained still.
It was an answer about the protagonist.
Only the protagonist.
And yet, for some reason, she couldn't immediately look away.
Leon did first.
He turned the page.
"Let's continue."
Aurora looked at the final page of the novel for another moment.
Then she picked up her pen again.
But that answer stayed with her.
Because he doesn't tell her.
And for the first time since discovering who had written The Space Between Us, Aurora wondered how much of that story Leon had actually invented.