The council hall emptied on soft soles and softer coughs. Brandon stacked folders, then stopped stacking because there was nothing left to order. “Envoy," he said, “your car will be ready in twenty."
Charlotte nodded. “Thank you."
Harrison stood at the far end, hands at his sides like a man practicing not to reach. He waited until the last camera blinked red and died. “Charlotte," he said, and it wasn't a summons. Just the shape of a name he didn't own anymore.
She turned a fraction. “Alpha Hale."
He flinched at the distance in the title and accepted it. “I know you're leaving," he said. “I need— I want to say something before you go."
“Say it," she said.
He exhaled like the word had opened ribs. “I failed you," he said. “I failed our daughter. I failed the thing we promised to build
