Fewer than a week stood between Daniel and his departure. Seven days remained before he would go.
That detail stuck around after Ella brought it up. Not a big deal - just tossed into conversation. Steam curled off our mugs while the machine hummed behind her. The lab's usual noise filled the gaps between sips.
"Did you hear? Dr. Anderson's leaving this weekend. Moving truck's coming Saturday morning."
My coffee almost hit the floor. "This weekend?"
"Yeah. Didn't you know? I thought you guys stayed in touch."
"We don't. We - no. We don't talk."
Her eyes met mine, quiet but sharp. That kind of silence telling more than words ever could - she saw it, just wouldn't dig. He's moving out, starting over somewhere new, up near Puget Sound
Seven days.
A week from now, Daniel wouldn't come back. Ever. He'd leave behind everything we shared, heading across the country alone. Distance would seal it - two thousand miles between us.
