By the time Brad stepped into the Skyrun Inc. building the next morning, he already felt like he was bracing for impact.The lobby was spotless as always—glass walls, steel beams, the faint smell of expensive coffee—but Brad had learned by now that appearances meant nothing. He swiped his intern badge, the green light blinking on without issue, and exhaled quietly. At least he hadn’t been fired overnight.Yet.He hadn’t even reached his cubicle when Sammy Jo’s voice floated across the floor.“Well, if it isn’t our resident errand boy.”Brad froze for half a second, then forced his legs to keep moving. He sat down, powered on his laptop, and pretended very hard that Sammy Jo didn’t exist.Sammy Jo leaned casually against the divider of Brad’s cubicle, chewing gum like he had nowhere else to be. “You hear about the meeting today?”Brad didn’t look up. “No.”Sammy Jo smiled. “Of course you didn’t. Guess who forgot to CC you again.”Brad finally glanced at him. “I didn’t get any emails.”

Brad woke up already tired.The alarm on his phone had gone off twice before his brain registered the sound, and by the time he jolted upright in bed, his heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with sleep. He stared at the time, groaned softly, and swung his legs over the side of the mattress.Late.Of course he was late.He scrubbed a hand down his face, exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin. The ceiling above him felt heavier than usual, pressing down with the quiet reminder of everything waiting for him at Skyrun. Matthew. Sammy Jo. Another day of invisible traps and public corrections.Brad already knew he was going to be in trouble before he even stepped out of his apartment.He skipped breakfast, barely tasted the coffee he gulped down, and rushed out the door with his bag slung over his shoulder. The drive felt longer than usual, every stop dragging out his dread. By the time he reached the building, his jaw was clenched so tight it hurt.The moment he step

Becky’s hands trembled, her chest tightening with a heat that had nothing to do with the coffee in her mug. Kirby’s words still lingered, sharp and venomous, cutting into every self-doubt she had spent months trying to bury.“You were always just… temporary.”The words replayed in her head like a cruel echo. Her fingers curled into fists beneath the table. She looked at Kirby, saw the smug satisfaction in her posture, the cruel smirk dancing across her lips. And something inside Becky snapped.“Enough.”It wasn’t a whisper. It wasn’t tentative. It was a low, dangerous growl that made Kirby blink. Becky shoved the chair back and rose to her feet, her eyes locked on Kirby.“Don’t talk to me like that,” Becky said, voice sharper than she realized she could be.Kirby laughed, a short, sharp sound. “Oh, look who’s trying to play tough now. What are you gonna do, cry?”Becky’s hands trembled again, but not with fear. This time it was with anger. She stepped forward, closing the space betwee

Jared pushed the bathroom door open, the harsh fluorescent light washing over him as he paused at the sink. He stared into the mirror, but his own reflection didn’t register. His attention was entirely on his phone, buzzing insistently on the counter. He grabbed it, and the moment he saw Brad’s message, his stomach dropped into a pit of molten anger.“Becky got burned. Kirby shoved her, coffee spilled on her wrist. We’re at the hospital.”His fingers tightened around the phone until the edges bit into his palms. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, a mixture of fury and helplessness. How had this happened? How had Kirby, of all people, managed to get that close to Becky? He had promised himself, and more importantly, Shelly had promised him, that his friends would be safe. That promise now felt like a lie.Without thinking, he dialed Shelly. His thumb hovered over the call button for a split second longer than necessary, his jaw clenched in frustration, before he pressed it any

The night air hung thick between them, the faint hum of the streetlights doing nothing to soften the tension. Brad’s jaw was tight, his hands shoved into his pockets as he stared at Jared.“Why do you suddenly care?” Brad asked, his voice even, but the sharp edge in it was unmistakable.Jared blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean suddenly? I care. Always.” His voice cracked slightly, the mix of frustration and desperation evident.Brad shook his head, exhaling sharply. “No, you don’t. You only show up when one of us is hurt badly. That’s the pattern, Jared. Becky gets burned, or someone gets into trouble, and suddenly, you appear. That’s when you care.”Jared’s eyes narrowed, hurt flashing across his face. “Brad… come on. That’s not fair. I’ve always—”“Not fair?” Brad cut him off, stepping closer, his voice rising. “Not fair? Jared, you haven’t checked in on us. Not for weeks. I can’t even reach you. Texts go unanswered. Calls—Shelly picks up before you do. You’re always somew