A person’s mind was a fragile thing.
Daniel had learned that long ago.
It shifted. Bent. Changed direction without warning, like wind slipping through fingers no matter how tightly you tried to hold onto it.
And this morning.
That was all he could think about.
He stared up at the ceiling, eyes open long before the day fully began, the faint light creeping in through the edges of the curtains. Sleep had come in pieces, broken, shallow, interrupted by thoughts that refused to quiet.
Not fear.
He didn’t like calling it that.
But it was close enough.
His jaw tightened slightly as he exhaled, slow and controlled, as if that alone could steady the restless movement in his chest.
Amelia.
The name alone was enough to pull everything back to the surface.
He had asked her out again.
And
