The click of the laptop closing sounded louder than it should have.

Final.

Like a door locking behind them.

Danny didn’t move for a second after. He stood there with one hand still resting on the lid, head slightly bowed, as if listening for something that wasn’t there. Chloe watched him, the quiet stretching, her pulse still racing from the kiss, from the countdown, from the weight of what sat between them now—unavoidable and ticking.

Seventy-two hours.

He looked up.

“All ...