Chapter 64

• I woke to the sound of my phone buzzing across the marble countertop, the vibration sharp and insistent, dragging me out of a sleep that had barely held me through the night. My limbs were heavy. My mind was still lodged in the scattered thoughts that had kept circling long after midnight—meetings postponed, contracts still unsigned, and the slow unraveling of certainty I had tried so hard to hold onto.
• I didn’t rush to grab the phone. I lay still for a moment, trying to pull my thoughts into order. The apartment was silent except for the dull hum of the city beyond the windows. The air felt tense, like it was bracing for something I had yet to name.
• When I finally reached for the phone, my breath caught before I even saw the full content of the alerts. The headlines lit up my lock screen, one after another, in that tone of detached precision that always felt more dangerous than something openly cruel. They were brief, cutting, curated to destabilize without appearing desperate.