And Friday? Friday would no longer belong to him.

The shift in the room was almost imperceptible at first, like a tremor beneath the surface that no one else could feel—but I could. Ethan’s jaw tightened. His eyes flicked to the clerk, then back to me. Everything he thought was invisible, every plan he had built in secret, had just hit a roadblock he hadn’t anticipated.

He opened his mouth, then closed it. A subtle shake of the head. A swallow. His carefully rehearsed calm, the flu, the blanket, the weak cough—it evaporated in an instant.

“I… I don’t understand,” he said, voice low, tight.