But the more she held the phrase in her mind, the more it shifted.Done enoughdidn’t quite mean finished in the way she’d first taken it.Initially, it sounded like praise. Closure. Aquiet acknowledgment thatshe’d handled something unpleasant and could now put it behindher.
Then another meaning edgedin.
Done enough wasn’t about how well she’d worked. It was about a boundary. Apoint beyond which knowledge became inconvenient.
Done enough implied she better not have pushed past what was permitted.
Done enough meant that nothing should ever be reopened or reconsidered or questioned.
And if what counted as enough was really about insulating him in case anyone ever confronted her about it, then her safety had never been part of the equation. Only the result mattered.
That was when the word “enough” took on a different shape.
Enough to leave no residue.
No witnesses.
No loose ends.
Her mouth went dry as the relief drained away, replaced by something colder and sharper, arealization she didn’t yet have language for but felt all thesame.
They reached the stairs and began descending at an unhurriedpace. Rebecca was acutely aware of the open space around them, the way voices echoed faintly from the entry level of Severin’s, the way people could see them without really seeingthem.
“I hope you weren’t cornered,” Vidar added. “Living with someone tends to blur boundaries. Roommates talk. They share impressions.”
Rebecca swallowed, her grip tightening on the tablet. “I didn’t tell her anything.”
Vidar glanced at her, then chuckled softly. “Of course you didn’t. That would’ve been very foolish of you. Especially since she’s been implicated.”
They continued down another few steps. Her calves burned faintly. She hadn’t realized how shallow her breathing had become until she forced herself to slowit.
“You spoke to her recently,” Vidar said, still pleasant. Stillcalm.
It wasn’t phrased as a question.
Rebecca’s mouth went dry. “Yes. Ispeak to her every day.”
“Of course you do,” he said. “Closeness tends to invite interpretation. People connect dots that were never meant to be connected.”
That sounded almost sympathetic.Almostkind.
Rebecca nodded because it seemed expected. “I swear, Ididn’t share anything I shouldn’t have.”
“I know,” Vidar said. “If you had, we wouldn’t be walking.”
Her foot missed a step.She recovered quickly, embarrassment flushing her cheeks. Vidar slowed, matching her pace without comment, as if he’d anticipatedit.
“You see,” he continued, “what matters isn’t that the file is gone. What matters is that it never finds its way back into anyone’s hands.”
Rebecca’s heart began to pound.”I understand that,” she said carefully. “I deleted it. It’s totally gone.”
“I’m glad,” Vidar replied. “Understanding prevents complications.”
They reached the landing before the final staircase to the entry level. The space opened again, glass and steel and light. Somewhere behind them, an elevator chimed.
Vidar stopped walking.
Rebecca did too.
