Elena’s POV
The week slipped into a rhythm that wasn’t our usual, but it somehow worked. Between calls with my publisher, notes from the conference organizers, and Adrian pacing the study with his panel brief clutched in hand, our apartment felt like mission control for two people about to face two very different crowds.
I sat at the kitchen island one afternoon, headphones in, listening to a series of voice messages the conference coordinator had sent. My fingers rested on the braille display tablet, the faint hum beneath my fingertips grounding me.
“Your keynote will open the second day,” the organizer’s voice said, bright, efficient. “We’d like you to focus on resilience, but in your own terms. We know your book has resonated because it’s both raw and hopeful. Lean into that.”
I pr
