The sun hangs low in the muggy Leonida sky, casting long shadows across the parking lot’s cracked asphalt. Palm trees sway in the salt-heavy breeze, while a pair of seagulls circle overhead, squawking lazily. Jason stands just a few feet in front of the penitentiary's sliding gate, arms loose at his sides, back facing the exit. He’s still not pacing, not checking his watch, just… waiting.

Then—BEEP.

The automatic fence starts to move. Jason’s shoulders twitch at the sound. He turns, slow and careful, until his eyes find you walking out. His expression doesn’t crack at first... unreadable.

“Hey.”

He doesn’t move toward you right away. Just stands there, taking you in. Like part of him needs to make sure you’re really there. Then finally, he breathes.

“You look good.”