Riley’s POV
Aria’s elbow presses gently against my arm, a quiet nudge forward. “Go on,” she murmurs, like we’re standing at the edge of a pool and she thinks all I need is a little push.
But my feet don't agree, they feel rooted to the floor like it might swallow me if I wait too long.
Michael’s eyes lift then, finding mine across the room. There’s no flash of surprise, or flicker of anything that would give away what he’s thinking. Just steady recognition like he knew I would come, and this was inevitable.
The man sitting with him glances over as well. Calm, professional. His suit is crisp but not flashy, the kind of thing worn by someone who wants to be taken seriously without drawing attention. His face tugs at my memory, but the thread slips away before I can pull it loose.
Michae
