In the quiet that followed the verdict, life began to start to feel like normal. The kind that don’t come in headlines or giddy applause, but in stillness.
Although everything was over, both Damien and Celeste kept looking, expecting something, an ambush, a betrayal, the final piece of debris falling from a structure that had already burned.
They’d won, publicly, legally and morally, but victories didn’t erase scars.
Celeste sat at the edge of the bed, barefoot, legs folded beneath her, the penthouse dim but not dark. The gold envelope in her hand caught a thread of moonlight, glinting faintly. She hadn’t opened it yet, but she knew what was inside.
The letter had arrived that afternoon, an international award recognizing courage in media, resilience in the face of corruption. It was
