Alexander
It's not anger, not exactly. It's something more… dense, more constant, like a pressure that won't go away.
I'm standing in front of my office window, hands in my pockets, looking at the city without really seeing it.
People are moving about down below, cars are passing by, everything keeps functioning as if nothing's wrong… as if the world hadn't just confirmed something I already knew, deep down.
They're getting married. Ethan and Clara, again.
I clench my jaw slightly, not with explosive rage, not with that irrational impulse that makes you break things or scream. No. Mine is different. It's colder, more dangerous, because I think. And when I think too much… that's when I start to understand how the pieces fit together.
I already have enough information, more than I
