Night would come again, and it would be used the right way. Training would harden the places that still bent and ease the places that needed room to heal.
The tiered field would be built by people who cared more about hinges and pressure lines than banners or applause.
The university would carry a crowd of first-years if those first-years learned to carry themselves and one another without waiting to be dragged.
The forbidden zones would stay distant and honest. The city would keep counting trams and be pleased every time the count remained correct.
Inside the suite, the room behaved the way good rooms behave after a long day. It accepted them without requiring anything.
It shared the shower without creaking. It had clean shirts ready. It allowed a plan to shrink until only one breath of it remained.
Everly wrote two words in the steam on the bathroom mirror and wiped them away before they turned into a promise she would feel obligated to keep.
