Page 301 of Bad Prince

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We move at the same time.

Shoulder to shoulder.

The contact is light?—

but deliberate.

A statement.

Not an accident.

Not aggression.

Acknowledgment.

Then she’s past me.

The door swings open.

Noise rushes back in.

And just like that?—

she’s gone.

I stand there for a second longer, the smell of antiseptic and adhesive still sharp in the air, the cold from the forgotten water cup seeping into my fingertips.

My heart isn’t racing anymore.

It’s steady.

Grounded.

And for the first time in weeks?—

I don’t feel like I’m reacting.

Or running.

Or trying to disappear.

I feel—locked in.

Game on.

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