The word divorce still hangs in the air like smoke.
No one moves.
On the screen, the frozen image shows me stepping out of the elevator three years ago, the folder clutched in my hand like a decision I had already made.
I stare at the woman in the footage.
At myself.
A stranger wearing my face.
“I came here to divorce you,” I whisper again.
Adrian doesn’t answer immediately. His expression is impossible to read.
Marcus exhales slowly and rubs his jaw. “Well… that definitely complicates the romance arc.”
I don’t even look at him. “Play the next camera.”
Adrian taps the screen.
The hallway camera loads.
The elevator doors open in the recording. I step out. The folder is still in my hand. The timestamp reads 11:13 PM.
Marcus leans forward. “Where does that hallway lead?”
Adrian
