Lucas
Thirty-seven days.
The number sat in the corner of my calendar.
A simple countdown.
A harmless countdown.
Yet every time I looked at it, the same thought appeared.
Time was running out.
Not for the company.
Not for a project.
For me.
For Amy.
For the truth.
Thursday started before sunrise.
The city was still dark when I arrived at Crane & Rogers.
The executive floor sat empty.
Quiet.
Peaceful.
The only sound was the distant hum of computers waking up for the day.
Normally I enjoyed mornings like this.
The solitude.
The calm.
The illusion of control.
Today it felt different.
Because the first thing I did wasn't check emails.
Or review reports.
Or prepare for meetings.
I checked my phone.
Looking for a message that wasn't there.
Pathetic.
I set the phone do
