Marcus flew home the day after the conference, the flight giving him rare quiet hours to think about everything the past decade had built from six impossible days that started on a subway platform.
Elena stayed behind another week, finishing conference obligations before returning to her research center, but she called that evening once he'd landed, voice warm despite the exhaustion of back-to-back meetings.
"You made it home okay?" she asked.
"Made it home fine," Marcus said, settling onto his familiar couch. "Quiet flight. Gave me time to think."
"About what?"
"About all of it, honestly," Marcus said. "Ten years. Feels strange saying that number out loud and actually believing it."
"I know what you mean," Elena said. "Sometimes I catch myself in a meeting, discussing containment pr
