Oh. Shit. The universe didn't just hit pause. It slammed pause, like a remote thrown against a wall mid-argument. Not in a poetic way. Not in a "Wow, time is so beautiful, let's admire it" kind of way.
Nah.
This was that kind of slow motion—the type where every single detail screamed danger, but my brain? Calm as hell. Like I was watching a movie frame by frame, except I was inside the damn thing.
I saw everything.
The metal pole tilted midair, the thick screws twisting loose and floating like they had all the time in the world. Each one spun slowly, spiraling through space with a lazy wobble, their silver surfaces catching the light in bright, blinking flashes.
Emma's hair lifted—every single strand.
