Jonah's POV

The chaotic spread of papers on the floor feels almost symbolic, a physical representation of the unraveling inside me. Nearby, Vivienne kneels, her hand resting on my shoulder—a gesture meant to ground me, though the crushing pressure in my chest makes it hard to even register her touch.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she urges, her voice soft yet steady.

I can’t. The words won’t come. How do you describe the complete dismantling of ...