Emma's POV
The first real crack didn't come where I expected it to.
It wasn't in my work.
It wasn't in my confidence.
And it wasn't in my relationship with Damian.
It came through something smaller. Quieter.
More personal.
I was reviewing site notes late in the afternoon when my phone buzzed with a notification I didn't recognize. An unfamiliar number. No caller ID. Just a message.
> You always did build beautiful things.
Too bad you never learned how to protect them.
I didn't reply.
I didn't block it either.
I stared at the screen, letting the message exist without allowing it to move me.
Threats were louder when they were empty.
Still, my fingers tightened slightly around the phone.
I saved the message.
Then I put the phone face-down on my desk.
When Clara came in ten minutes later, I didn't mention it.
Not because I was hiding it—but because I was choosing when it mattered.
That choice alone felt like power.
