AISLYNThe sound of Elliot’s phone still rings in my ears long after he answers it.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, already lifting the device. “This is important.”

“Elliot…” I start, instinctively reaching for him.

But he’s already turning away.

He brings the phone to his ear mid-step, his focus snapping elsewhere. His stride lengthens as he walks down the corridor, voice low, clipped, absorbed.

“Yes. What is it?”

The words fade as distance swallows them.

I stop where I ...