I rose from the polished table too quickly, my chair scraping against the floor.

“I should go,” I said, more to convince myself than him. My voice didn’t carry the sharpness I wanted. Instead, it sounded small and fragile, the opposite of the armor I’d promised myself I’d wear.

Carlos leaned back slightly, but his gaze never wavered. “Bad idea,” he said softly. Not a command, not a rebuke. Just calm certainty, as though the words had already been weighed before he released ...