Chapter 135

• The morning of the summit began quietly, though Paris itself was anything but. From my hotel window, the street below moved with a kind of rhythm that felt choreographed, even though I knew it was just life unfolding. The café across the street had already filled with people balancing cups and conversation, and the sound of bicycle bells cut through the hum of traffic. I had woken early without an alarm, the way I always did when my mind was steady but alert.
• Julian was still asleep when I stepped into the shower, the warm water doing little to quiet the list in my head. I had gone over my speech so many times that I could recite it in my sleep, but speaking the words in front of a crowd was a different matter. The invitation had been flattering when it first arrived. The idea of speaking about sustainability, craft, and resilience in a room full of people who claimed to value those things felt meaningful. But as the day drew closer, I started to wonder whether I was walking into something I could not control.
• The summit was being held in a historic building near the Seine, its stone facade softened by age and weather. The car ride there felt shorter than I wanted it to. Julian sat beside me, his hand resting loosely on mine. He did not say much, but he did not need to. The calm he carried had a way of settling over me without words.