(Steven Sy's POV)
The sun had barely risen when Steven opened his eyes.
For a moment, he didn't move.
He simply lay there in the quiet guest room of Andy's penthouse, staring at the faint outline of dawn pressing through the curtains.
His chest felt… hollow.
Not painful.
Not panicked.
Just hollow, like something inside him had already been acknowledged—accepted—hours before he opened his eyes.
He sat up slowly, fingers pressing briefly against his forehead.
He remembered last night.
Michelle's voice.
Her steadiness.
Her clarity.
"I want you to know yourself,
"Not me. Not Lara. You."
The part that had sunk deepest:
"You deserve to choose with clarity. And I deserve… to be chosen without doubt."
He had gone to bed thinking those words would fade, that sleep would dull them.
Instead, they sharpened.
He stood.
Pulled on a sweatshirt.
Checked the time.
6:07 AM.
Too early for the others…
But not too early for what he needed to do.
