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Nicholas Boothman
Chapter 15:
A Glimpse of the Infinite
The white room had no walls, no ceiling, and no floor. Just an infinite expanse of luminous nothing that hurt to look at directly. Henry felt untethered, as if gravity had become optional. Beside him, Vincent's wooden cross had worn grooves into his palm. Logan stood like a pillar of granite between them, the fixer’s mask finally stripped away, leaving only the desperation of a father.
While Henry’s eyes were clouded by the ghosts of his corporate sins, and Vincent’s searched for the architecture of God, Logan stared at the pixelated image of his daughter on his phone.
He wasn’t there to repent for Cerulean or seek divine grace. He was there to bargain with the infinite for the one life that made his own worth living. To Logan, the room wasn't a courtroom or a temple; it was simply the final obstacle between his child and a world where she could breathe.
And then something shifted. Not in the room. In them.
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