Morning came like a slow, heavy fog, wrapping the city in muted gray and soft humidity. Ella's eyes opened to the dull hum of traffic far below, but she didn't feel rested. Her chest still felt tight, and her thoughts were tangled with everything that had happened the night before.
The tension from staying up with Ben, Lucas, and Reed had settled into her muscles, making her stiff, but she couldn't move, she wasn't fully awake and calm as well. There was too much to think about. Too much to prepare for.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and groaned, stretching her arms above her head. "Ugh… why do mornings have to exist?" she muttered under her breath. Her voice cracked slightly, a reminder of exhaustion and fear and anticipation all mixed together.
Downstairs, Ben was already pacing the kitchen. He'd skipped sleep entirely, and it showed. His shirt was wrinkled, hair sticking out at odd angles. He muttered lowly to himself, a half-grumble, half-prayer about servers, files, timing, and worst-case scenarios. Ella leaned against the doorframe, watching him, feeling both relief and worry. Relief that he was alive, present, human. Worry that he was so close to burning out.
"Ella," he muttered without turning, voice low but firm, almost a growl. "We need to cover every angle. Every. Single. One. Rita won't leave anything to chance, and neither can we."
Ella nodded, rubbing her eyes. "I know. I've been running through every single file all night. Lucas checked and rechecked everything. We're ready." Her voice was quieter than she wanted, but she didn't have energy for louder. She yawned and muttered, "God, I just want one hour of sleep."
Ben snorted softly. "One hour?" His shoulders shook slightly as he turned to look at her, a faint smile trying to appear but failing to hide the tension. "We don't get one hour. Not today."
Ella sighed, muttering under her breath, "Figures." She glanced at the living room where Lucas and Reed were already busy with laptops and notes, voices low, urgent, occasionally snapping out directions to each other. The air was thick with anticipation, nearly vibrating with energy.
Ben approached Ella slowly and lowered his voice. "We can't underestimate her. She's cunning. Smart. Dangerous."
Ella shivered, not out of fear exactly, but from the intensity of his words. "I know," she whispered, gripping his hands. "But we're ready too. We have the truth. And we have each other."
Ben's eyes softened a little. "Together," he murmured, echoing the promise they'd made the night before.
Lucas broke the moment with a muttered groan. "You two can hold hands later. Right now, focus. I've cross-checked the timestamps and messages again. If we start posting before she does, we have the upper hand."
Reed added, "And we need to coordinate everything exactly. Ella, Ben… nothing leaves until we have a full check."
Ella rubbed her temples. "Fine. Let's run it through one more time." Her voice was sharp now, urgent. She needed control, needed focus. Needed to feel like they weren't dangling over a cliff.
The morning stretched into mid-morning, the soft hum of the city below masking the tension in the apartment. Ella, Ben, Lucas, and Reed worked methodically, quietly, with small bursts of frustration and low growls of impatience. Every time a small error appeared: a missed file, a timestamp misalignment. Ben groaned or muttered under his breath, and Ella would sigh or hiss softly, her chest tightening.
Finally, by 11:42 a.m., everything was ready. The folder was complete, every unedited file, every timestamped message, every note from Lucas and Reed lined up for release. The files had to go live all at once for maximum effect. Every second counted.
Ella felt her stomach twist, nerves tightening. "Okay… we're ready," she whispered. Her voice cracked a little, betraying the fear she'd kept at bay for hours.
Ben placed a hand on her shoulder, grounding her. "Whatever happens… we face it together," he muttered, voice low, intense.
Lucas and Reed stood nearby, silent now, watching them. The room held its collective breath, as if waiting for the world to respond to their next move.
Ella clicked the final confirmation, holding her breath as the upload began. She muttered, "Here goes nothing…" and leaned against Ben. The seconds stretched, almost painful in their length.
And then, the first notifications appeared. Views, shares, messages, all exploding at once. Rita's voice, her lies, her manipulations all exposed. The truth was out. The web she'd tried to weave was unraveling in real-time.
Ben let out a low whistle, barely audible, relief and exhaustion in it. "It's working," he murmured, eyes fixed on the screen.
Ella's lips trembled into a small smile. "It's working," she echoed, feeling the tension in her chest loosen just a fraction. She pressed a hand to her stomach, shaking slightly from adrenaline.
Lucas clapped his hands softly, muttering, "Finally. Finally, it's happening."
Reed grinned, though his eyes were sharp. "Don't celebrate yet. She'll respond. She always does."
Ella swallowed, nodding. "We're ready. Let her try. Let her hit back. We've got this."
Ben pulled her close, resting a hand on the small of her back. "Together," he whispered again, and Ella nodded, finally letting herself relax just a fraction.
Outside, the city pulsed, oblivious. Inside, the apartment felt alive with both tension and triumph, each heartbeat echoing the truth that they were no longer pawns—they were players now. And this… this was only the beginning of the end.