DANIEL'S POV
She came.
Eight o'clock on the dot. A knock came - soft, though sharp enough to hear. Stillness right after.
Beneath the flicker of bridge lights - Brooklyn waited, lashes wet, heartbeat sharp. Though fingers shook, her posture refused to bend. There was grace in the stillness, worn thin at the seams. Air stilled, hung loose a moment, vanished without sound.
"You came."
"I said I would."
First, I stepped aside. Then she walked in behind me.
Apartments emptied out fast. Blank spots on walls showed where frames had been taken down. What used to feel warm now just bounced sound. Cardboard stacks leaned against baseboards, sealed with thick stripes of tape. Three days stood between Seattle and what came next. Perched at the brink of those hours, a fresh start lingered.
Without her.
"Sorry about the mess."
"It's strange seeing your place like this. Empty. Like you're already gone."
"I am already gone. This is just wrapping up loose ends."
