Dys — Vocal Crack

When he finished, the room was quiet again. But it was a different quiet. Not the silence of a funeral. The silence of a held breath.

Silence. The judge—a woman with razor-cut bangs and a face carved from glacial ice—looked up from her clipboard. Not with pity. With assessment. Dys Vocal Crack

For Leo, that was enough. He hadn't fixed the crack. He had just stopped fighting it. And in the truce, he'd found a new note—one that wasn't in any scale. His own. When he finished, the room was quiet again