The room was quiet in a way that made every small sound carry.
The AC hummed low. The TV was on but muted, the screen flashing headlines and clips that moved faster than the truth behind them. Dayo sat back on the couch, one arm resting along the edge, eyes fixed on his phone, scrolling without urgency.
Sharon stood near the window, her arms folded, watching him more than she was watching the city outside.
"Have you seen how fast it's spreading?" she asked, turning slightly toward him.
He didn't answer immediately. His thumb moved again, another post, another headline, another angle of the same story.
"I've seen it," he said after a moment, voice steady, almost casual.
She walked closer, stopping just across from him.
"It's not just spreading," she added. "It's shaping."
That made him glance up briefly.
Then back to the phone.
"That's the point," he said.
Sharon exhaled, slow.
"So you're just… okay with it?"
He let out a quiet breath through his nose, not quite a laugh.
