I sit in the chair, my body leaning back as if the leather might swallow me whole.
It shifts beneath me—just a little, just enough to remind me that I'm still here, still breathing, still sitting in this room.
Beyond the glass wall, the night is scattered with gold. Tiny lights. Thousands of them.
Each one a small pulse in the darkness, like stars that forgot they belonged to the sky. They flicker and fade and flicker again, indifferent to the lives being lived beneath them.
Everic sits across from me, the meeting still weighing heavily on his shoulders.
The file lies open in front of him—pages spread, numbers bleeding into numbers, black ink on white paper. His eyes move across them slowly, methodically, like he's dissecting something alive.
Calculating. Analyzing.
The room is quiet. Too quiet.
"You didn't hear anything else?" he asks.
I don't look at him.
"No."
