The gentle deceleration of the car pulled her out of the fog of her thoughts.
Concrete walls.
Dim lights.
The low hum of an engine dying.
They had arrived.
Iva blinked slowly, as if surfacing from deep water, and realized the car was gliding into the underground parking of Caleb’s building. The space felt vast and hollow, every sound echoing — the soft roll of tires, the faint click of the engine shutting off, the quiet shift of James’ weight as he stepped out.
For a moment she did not move.
Her body felt distant, heavy, like something she had borrowed but no longer controlled.
The door on her side opened.
James stood there, composed and silent as ever, one hand holding the door with respectful patience. His expression was carefully neutral, but she sensed the awareness behind it
