They remained at the junction longer than the corridor traffic required. The residual light along the walls had settled into its lowest night setting, soft enough that the edges of their faces were clearer than the details. Aiden's statement still hung between them. Elizabeth did not look away.
"I'm not waiting either," she said. "Not for the lock to approve it. Not for the work to leave enough room. Not for the old versions of us to decide it's safe."
Aiden's hand was still in hers. He lifted their joined hands and rested them lightly against his chest, just over the place where the residual lock registered most clearly. The contact was steady. She felt the slow rise and fall of his breathing through the fabric.
"Then we stop treating this like something we have to justify," he said. "We treat it like the baseline."
