The visit to Mia's mother ends with soft hugs and polite warmth, the kind that requires a smile even when holding it takes actual effort. I return every kindness. I meet every gaze. I nod through the thank yous and the gentle reassurances and the hopeful updates, and I do not falter until the moment I step into the hallway and the door clicks shut behind me.
The quiet there is sharper. My chest tightens and my breathing goes short and Jaden's countdown comes back the way it always does when I stop moving long enough for it to catch me. Eight days and half a million dollars and I walk toward the elevators without deciding to, my feet moving while the rest of me tries to catch up.
I tell myself to slow down. I tell myself to breathe. I keep walking anyway.
The elevator arrives and I step
