I picked it up. My fingers felt numb, but steadying.
Inside was a piece of notebook paper, torn from a spiral binding. Just two lines.
No questions. Just solutions.
—A.
I read it twice.
No questions.
No "Why didn't you tell us?"
No "Are you sure you're okay?"
No "Let me help."
No demand for information. No demand for gratitude. No demand for access.
Just solutions.
They had removed the problem. The problem was them. Their scent, their presence, the biological pressure they exerted just by existing. So they removed it.
They vacated the room.
I looked up at the open doors of the venue. Beyond the light spill, I knew they were there. Probably pacing. Probably vibrating with the instinct to protect, to guard, to comfort.
But they stayed behind the line.
"They didn't come," I whispered. The realization felt fragile, like glass I was afraid to break.
"They wanted to," Rowan said dryly. "Desperately. I think Kit actually chewed through a drumstick. But the protocol is clear. Do-Nothing unless invited."
"They asked," I said, looking back at the note. "He asked if I wanted you. He didn't assume he was the answer."
"Alfie knows he's a lot of things," Rowan said, standing up and offering me a hand, palm up, waiting, not grabbing. "But he’s learning he’s not always the medicine."
I stared at her hand. Then I looked at the note again.
No questions. Just solutions.
I folded the paper carefully, creasing the edge with my thumbnail until it was sharp. I slid it into the pocket of my hoodie, right next to my phone.
I took Rowan’s hand and let her pull me up. My legs held. The heat was a dull throb now, manageable, boxed away behind the chemical wall of the upgrade.
"We're canceling soundcheck," Rowan stated. "Back to the bus. You're in the neutral zone for the next twelve hours."
"No," I said.
Rowan paused. "Zia, you just had a breakthrough spike."
"And the meds caught it. I'm functional." I turned back to the console. My mix layout was still on the screens. "If I leave now, Imake it a capital T Thing. If I finish the calibration, it was just a medical moment."
Rowan studied me. She tapped the pencil against her temple. "You're stubborn."
"I'm a professional."
"Fine. But Cal is bringing you tea, and if your heart rate goes above 100 again, I'm pulling the plug and dragging you out myself."
