The hallway felt different after Marcus Creed left.
Not quieter. Heavier.
Like the building itself had absorbed the confrontation and was still deciding what to do with it.
Mira walked beside Ethan in silence, her heels tapping softly against polished floors that suddenly felt too loud. Every step reminded her that she was still standing. Still here. Still breathing—after a past that had just tried to walk back into her life uninvited.
Ethan didn't speak at first. Not because he didn't have words. Because he was choosing the right ones.
"You handled that well," he said finally.
Mira let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"I didn't feel like I handled anything," she replied. "I felt like I survived it."
Ethan slowed his pace, just enough to look at her properly.
"That's still handling it."
They reached the glass wall overlooking the lower floors. Employees moved like clockwork below—unaware that something small but seismic had just happened above them.
