Nothing happened the next day.
That was the first thing Harvey noticed.
He woke up on time, got dressed, and left his apartment without feeling rushed. The city moved the way it always did. Cars stopped at red lights. People crossed streets without looking up.
No words appeared.
At Redfield Group, his inbox was quiet. No new instructions. No follow-ups from David. Just the usual flow of small tasks and minor clarifications.
Harvey worked through them steadily.
Jake stopped by once, leaning against the divider with his phone in hand. "You alive in there?"
"Barely," Harvey said.
Jake grinned. "Figures. Project life."
Then he straightened. "Hey, if David asks later, the client confirmed the revised dates. I already forwarded it."
"Okay," Harvey said.
Jake nodded and walked off.
The interaction left no mark. It didn't need to.
Around midday, Emily appeared beside his desk, already holding her lunch.
"You coming?" she asked.
"Yeah."
They walked together to the break area. Emily talked about a café she wanted to try over the weekend. Harvey listened, nodding at the right moments.
"You're not distracted today," she said suddenly.
Harvey looked up. "Is that a bad thing?"
She smiled. "No. Just different."
They sat across from each other and ate slowly. The silence between them felt comfortable, not strained. Emily didn't rush her words. Harvey didn't feel the need to fill gaps.
For a moment, everything felt balanced.
In the afternoon, Laura sent one short message.
*Checked the numbers again. Still holds.*
Harvey replied with a single word.
*Good.*
That was the end of it.
He finished his work on time and shut his laptop without lingering. On the way out, he caught his reflection in the glass near the exit. He looked the same as always. Maybe a little more tired. Maybe a little more composed.
He couldn't tell which.
Emily walked with him again after work. They talked about nothing important. The weather. A movie trailer she'd seen. A random memory from college that made her laugh.
At the corner where they usually split, Emily slowed.
"You free this weekend?" she asked.
"I think so."
"Good," she said. "Let's try that café."
"Sure."
She smiled, satisfied, and stepped back. "Text me."
"I will."
She left, and Harvey stood there for a moment, watching her disappear into the crowd.
Everything was fine.
That thought came easily.
At home, he made dinner and ate sitting down for once. He checked his phone. No new messages. No missed calls.
The quiet didn't feel heavy. It felt settled.
Later, he opened his notebook.
He looked at the last two lines he had written days ago.
*Observe first.*
*Small choices count.*
He added nothing else.
Harvey closed the notebook and set it aside. He lay back and stared at the ceiling, letting the ordinary sounds of the city drift through the window.
No warnings came.
No confirmations.
Just another day, moving forward.
And yet, somewhere beneath the calm, the words from yesterday lingered, unchanged and unresolved.
Personal life: narrowing.
Harvey didn't know why that line stayed with him more than the others.
Only that it hadn't contradicted anything he felt.
Not yet.