The final sunrise at the retreat spilled gold over the quiet grounds, touching the edges of cabins and curling into corners where memories lingered. It was the morning everyone had half-dreaded and half-anticipated—the return to the real world.
At breakfast, the facilitators returned everyone’s phones, carefully labeled and fully charged.
The moment Katherine held hers, it felt foreign in her hand—like holding a piece of her old life that no longer quite fit. Notifications flooded in: emails, texts, missed calls. But for now, she swiped them away and slid them into her bag.
Kingsley was already on a call. “Yeah, Elijah, it’s me. I’m heading back today. Can you book me a flight to Manhattan this afternoon? I’ll text you the retreat coordinates so you can send a driver. Thanks, man.”
He
