Silence filled the SUV the way water fills a sinking ship — slowly at first, then all at once. Not peaceful silence, not angry silence, but that dangerous kind that feels like it’s holding its breath along with you. Ahmir didn’t start the car immediately.
He sat still, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on his thigh as if he had all the hours in the night to let me come apart or collect myself. “You’re furious,” he said quietly.
I stared straight ahead. “You think?”
“You'll understand later.”
“Don’t do that,” I snapped. “Don’t talk to me like you see a future conversation I haven't agreed to have.”
He exhaled once, slow and controlled, then started the car. The engine thrummed low beneath us as we slid into traffic. Streetlights washed gold across his face, shadowing th
