Time moved differently once the door closed.
Willow had no way to measure it precisely, but she felt the stretch of it in her body. The room remained still, the quiet uninterrupted by footsteps or voices. The hum of the building filtered through the walls at a constant pitch, neither soothing nor intrusive. She sat upright, hands folded loosely in her lap, posture composed even as her awareness sharpened with each passing moment.
Twenty minutes passed.
She did not count them actively. She felt them accumulate, each one settling into the space between her breaths. Her mind stayed disciplined, returning again and again to what she had prepared, what she had structured, what she had come to do. Whenever her thoughts threatened to drift, she guided them back to sequence and intention.
This was not waiting for permission.This was holding position.
When the door opened, the sound registered immediately.
