Elena’s POV
I didn’t sleep much that night. Adrian did, lightly with one arm curled around me, his body grounding mine, but my mind wouldn’t shut off. Every time I closed my eyes, that headline flashed behind my lids. The world had taken something personal and twisted it into something political, public and questionable.
By morning, my resolve had sharpened into something clean and fierce.
When Adrian walked into the kitchen, still toweling his damp hair, I was already at the counter with my laptop open and my screen reader whispering lines of text I’d been typing since dawn.
He paused, shirtless, a fresh cup of espresso in hand. “You’re up early.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said. “I needed to do something.”
He moved closer, peering over my shoulder. “What is that?”
“My response.”
“Ele
