The morning after did not feel like aftermath.

That was the first thing Violet understood as she stepped into her day. There was no emotional residue clinging to her skin, no restless echo pulling her backward. What she carried instead was continuity. The sense that nothing had ended the night before, only paused with intention.

The city received her without resistance. She moved through it with the same steadiness she had learned to hold, her awareness wide rather than guarded. People passed her, conversations brushed her ears, traffic hummed in the background, yet none of it fractured her focus. Presence had settled into her body as something natural, no longer...