Morning arrived without permission.
It pushed itself into the town through notification sounds, ringing phones, murmured conversations on sidewalks, and the low, constant hum of something unfinished vibrating beneath the ordinary rhythm of life. The truth had gone public the night before, but it hadn’t settled. It hadn’t chosen a shape yet. It lingered in fragments—clips, screenshots, half-heard explanations—floating loose and sharp enough to cut anyone who touched them without care.
Ethan woke before his alarm, heart racing, his body reacting as if it were still standing in front of the crowd. For a few seconds, he didn’t remember where he was. Then the compass on his desk caught the light, dull now, resting as if it had never burned in his hand at all, and the memory came back all at o
