I asked for twenty-four hours without the model.
Not after I slept.
Not after Renate finished rewrapping my hand or Elena sent the first regulatory packet.
I asked while Silas was still holding me.
"Turn it off," I said.
He looked down at me.
"Which part?"
That should have been a cruel question.
It was not.
That was the problem.
There were too many parts.
The public feed. The private overlay. The acquisition model. The recovery projections. The risk engine still watching my pulse because someone had decided care required a sensor before permission.
"All of it," I said.
Renate's hands paused over the medical tape.
Elena went silent on the side screen.
Silas did not argue.
He turned his head once.
The glass walls dimmed.
One display after another went black.
The room did n
