For a moment, there is nothing. No sound. No breath. Just the quiet hum of the phone pressed against my ear and the cold weight of Damian’s voice settling into my bones.
“Have you reconsidered, Ms. Hart.”
Part of me wants to hang up. Another part wants to scream. What comes out is a clipped, sharp reply that tastes like metal on my tongue.
“Are you enjoying this,” I snap. “Do you find any of this fun.”
A quiet pause. Then his answer arrives, smooth and steady.
“This is not about fun. It is about balance.”
Balance. The word hits me wrong. Balance implies justice. Fairness. Humanity. None of this feels like justice. None of this feels fair. The only thing I feel right now is the crushing weight of someone far more powerful than me pressing down on every part of my life.
“You call this
