The clinic was quieter than usual. Not empty—never empty—but the kind of quiet that came from intention. Floors swept clean enough to reflect the overhead lights. Air sharp with antiseptic, the kind that bit the back of your throat and then let go.
Arianne saw the chair first.
Not the chair itself. What was tucked around it. A small coat folded over the armrest. Shoes set underneath, toes pointing inward like they'd been kicked off in a hurry. A tablet on the seat, screen still lit, resting facedown like someone had only just stepped away.
Lily followed her gaze without being told. Her body went still for half a second—the way she always did when something caught her attention that wasn't part of the routine.
Leo paused mid-step. Lifted his tablet.
Someone here.
Arianne didn't answer. She was already looking past it.
