Jake slept better that night.
Not peacefully, exactly. His mind still drifted through fragments of the past few days—lawyers backing out, unanswered calls, the cold edge of helplessness pressing in from every side. But for the first time in what felt like forever, he slept without that crushing pressure sitting on his chest.
The eviction threat was gone. The bank had processed the payment. His parents' home was secure again.
Everything that had seemed to be collapsing had simply… stopped. Not gradually, not after some drawn-out struggle that gave him time to breathe. It had ended all at once, as if someone had reached down and switched off the crisis with a single gesture.
Because of one call. That truth stayed with him long after he woke up.
The next morning, Jake arrived at his parents' apartment a little after nine. He had barely stepped into the corridor before the door opened.
