The gate didn’t open.
Julian waited for the soft mechanical hum he had heard a hundred times before—the sound of metal parting in quiet acknowledgment of his presence.
Nothing moved.
His engine idled. The guard in the booth glanced toward him, then down at a tablet, then back up again with professional neutrality.
Julian lowered his window. “Open it.”
“Good afternoon, sir,” the guard replied evenly. “I’ll need to verify clearance.”
Julian didn’t blink. “You recognize me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then open the gate.”
The guard’s posture didn’t shift. “Verification is required.”
Required.
Julian felt the word land like a procedural slap.
He leaned slightly out of the window. “I’m her husband.”
“Yes, sir.”
The tablet remained in the guard’s hands.
The gate remained closed.
Julian’s jaw t
