CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
THE END
I have learned to appreciate the calm. Not in the abstract, not in the poetic way people talk about peace like it is something soft and distant, but in the tangible, almost fragile way it settles into ordinary moments and makes them feel like something worth holding onto. The quiet does not feel empty anymore. It feels earned.
Like this.
A simple sandwich in my hands, slightly uneven at the edges where it was cut in a hurry, the bread still warm, the taste grounding in a way I did not know I needed. The park stretches out around us in gentle motion, people passing by, children laughing somewhere in the distance, the low hum of a city that no longer feels like it is pressing down on my chest.
And Reed.
He sits across from me on the bench, one arm draped casu
