Leo had been awake for thirty-one hours.
He didn’t reply. He opened the terminal one last time. A single line, just for himself:
Leo opened the file. The thumbnail alone made his chest tighten. The drone lifted. The music swelled. Maya’s burnt-orange dress caught the light. Kaelen’s deconstructed blazer rippled in the fake wind. The silk looked like water. The shadows were deep but not crushed. The vignette held the frame like a locket.