The weekend settled over the city with a muted authority, the kind of calm that demanded neither attention nor response, yet carried a weight that pressed gently against the edges of perception. Violet left her apartment with a deliberate pace, feeling the cool evening air settle against her skin, sharpening her senses as she moved through the familiar streets. Every step felt measured, an extension of the rhythm she had been cultivating with Bryan over the past weeks. The anticipation had changed its shape; it no longer urged or prodded. It waited, steady and patient, like the slow pull of tides beneath a calm surface.

She arrived at Bryan’s building,...