“Time?” she echoed, loud enough that the people nearby glanced up, curious now. “The time was Friday, Ethan. You promised me Friday. What is this—Thursday? Someone’s interfering.” Her gaze swept over me and paused, sharp, assessing.

I stayed silent. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t apologize. I let every word, every nuance, every shift in Ethan’s posture register fully in the space around us.

Ethan turned fully toward me, a flicker of anger mixed with fear in his eyes. “Claire—don’t—”

I met his gaze evenly. “Don’t what?” I said softly, but the weight in my voice made it louder than I intended. “This isn’t my plan. It’s what you set in motion. I’m just… responding.”