Daniel let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The train hummed beneath him, smooth and steady, and for the first time in days, his body softened into the seat. The quiet car was calm, the view outside a blur of winter trees. He closed his eyes.
This was what he needed. Just six hours of stillness. No meetings. No screens. No one needing a decision. He let his head rest against the window, the gentle motion of the train rocking him into that in-between space where thought starts to drift and tension begins to slip away.
Then—thud. A sharp jolt against his lower back. Not loud, but precise. Deliberate. He froze. Another kick followed. Then another. A steady rhythm, each one chipping away at his fragile calm. Something dark stirred beneath the exhaustion. Daniel exhaled slowly, eyes narrowing. If it didn’t stop, he would make sure it does.