Dominic's POV
I don't sleep.
Not insomnia. Not the work-brain that used to keep me up running numbers. Just this clean wide-awake state, lying in the dark, replaying her hands gripping the front of my shirt like I was something to hold onto.
She chose to hold on.
That's the thing I keep returning to. Emma Chen, who manages everything alone, who built entire systems of self-sufficiency around herself like architecture, reached out in that hallway and held on.
To me.
I stare at the ceiling for an hour and then get up and go to my desk and actually read the Reyes file, because I need something to do with my hands and my head, and by three in the morning I've annotated the whole thing and sent Marcus six pages of notes and then sat in the chair in the dark feeling more awake than I've fe
