Same mango tree. Same silence. Different day.

She waves when she sees Tobi. Still smiling.

Tobi didn’t smile back.

Tobi dropped the notepad.

Zion’s face fell. "Where did you get this?"

"From your bag."

Zion flipped through. Paused. Saw the annotations.

"You think I wrote the notes?"

Tobi folded her arms. "I know you did."

She didn’t yell. Didn’t deny. Just said:

"Tobi, I didn’t even know you still had this version."

"I didn’t."

Zion’s voice softened. "Then maybe… you left it.” 

“Excuse me?”

“I mean… maybe you left it in my bag. Back when we were editing together. You were tired. You said weird stuff that week.”

“Like what?”

She hesitated.

“Like… forgetting things you’d already told me.”

Tobi blinked.

Her voice was quiet. “You said it felt like someone else was writing for you.”

That knocked the breath out of her.

She didn’t remember saying that.

But it sounded like something she would.

She grabbed the notepad.

Zion didn’t flinch.

"You’re capping—"

Zion stared quietly.

"Then prove it!" 

"You’re the one who stole from me."

Tobi turned.

Didn’t remember walking away.

But the notepad was clenched in her hand.