Morning would come.
And with it, a chance.
Not perfect. Not safe. But real.
Daniel stood, set the glass in the sink, his movements more deliberate now.
He didn’t know exactly what he would say or how it would unfold.
But he knew one thing—he couldn’t pretend this was just another job anymore.
When he turned off the lights, one thought stayed clear:
Tomorrow, I won’t just drive.
I’ll choose.
Morning came quietly, but Daniel felt its weight. Every minute carried urgency.
He got ready more slowly than usual, aware that once he acted, there would be no going back.
When he arrived, the gates opened as always—smooth, silent—as if yesterday had never happened.
But everything looked different now.
The still garden. The absence of sound. The emptiness felt louder.
Ethan was already waiting, standing straight, hands behind his back, as if he had practiced it.
When he saw Daniel, his expression softened slightly—but there was caution in his eyes.
“Good morning,” Daniel said gently.
Ethan nodded and got into the car, movements still careful.
The drive to school began in silence—but it wasn’t the same silence. This one carried awareness.
Daniel glanced in the mirror. Ethan met his eyes briefly, then looked away.