We left the city before the light began to soften, not because there was any immediate danger behind us, but because neither of us wanted to remain in a place that had already started to feel too narrow for what we carried with us.
The streets had lost their anonymity, the noise no longer acting as a shield but as something that blurred thought instead of quieting it, and staying would have meant pretending that nothing had shifted when everything clearly had.
Rowan didn't ask whether I was ready to leave. He simply started walking, as though the decision had already been made somewhere between us without needing to be spoken aloud. I followed, not because I trusted him completely, but because standing still felt worse, like lingering in a moment that was already closing behind us.
