Morning light spilled across the condo living room, bright enough to feel intrusive. The ocean thundered through the open windows, loud and insistent, like it refused to let anyone forget where they were or what today meant. Scarlet sat on the couch with her cast resting across her lap, her good hand wrapped loosely around it as if holding something fragile. She stared at the plaster, tracing its edges with her eyes. It still felt foreign, heavy in a way that went beyond weight. Like proof she could not shake.
Quinn poured coffee into a collection of mismatched mugs, the clink of ceramic sharp in the quiet. He handed one off, then paused with the pot hovering midair.
“State championship day,” Soren said. He shook his head slightly, more to himself than anyone else. “Man…That sentence fee
