The next morning, the EP finally sounded like a body instead of a collection of strong parts.
Luna sat near the back of the studio with her knees drawn up on the couch, a mug of tea cooling untouched between her hands. She looked tired, but the tiredness was different from the one Dayo had seen during the days when the final track refused to open. That exhaustion had carried frustration. This one carried release.
Amanda sat beside her with the lyric sheet for Before the Door folded carefully in her lap.
Wayne was at the console, pretending that the room had not humbled him the day before. Alice stood near the far wall with Sharon, both of them quiet in the way people became when they understood that a project had moved from production into responsibility. Mara had joined remotely because she was still buried in post-audit reports, but her screen remained on, and for once no one asked her to pull up a chart.
Dayo stood behind the console, not in the center of the room.
