(Mira's POV)
The apartment was quiet, but not heavy. It was the kind of quiet that invited clarity. I sat across from him, the space between us deliberate, measured, and necessary. Ethan was here, present, and stripped of everything that usually defined him—no CEO aura, no polished charm, no implicit expectations. Just him. Vulnerable. Honest. And for once, I wasn't trying to control the narrative. I was listening. I was watching. I was weighing.
"Why Crossfield?" I asked finally, my voice calm and steady. Not harsh. Not accusatory. Just deliberate. "Why did it matter so much to you… to us?"
Ethan leaned back slightly, hands clasped loosely on his knees. His eyes met mine fully, and I could see the answer forming even before he spoke.
