Her hair is damp, face fresh, cheeks a little pink from the heat of the shower. She’s wearing one of Gideon’s shirts—dark blue, soft-looking, huge on her. It skims her thighs and makes her look like she walked straight out of my fantasies.
She pads closer. “Tell me you found something.”
“Sit,” I say, pulling out the chair beside me.
She sits.
Gideon swivels the screen. “They’re taking her to an off-site clinic for a yearly eval. Three days from now at ten thirty.”
She goes still. “That soon.”
“Yes,” I confirm. “Which means she’s in danger now.”
Penelope swallows. “Alright, walk me through it.”
I do. I explain the clinic. The emergency exit. The escort protocol. The evaluation language that makes my skin crawl.
By the time I finish, she’s breathing harder.
“And me?” she asks.
“You wait outside with Talon,” I say. “You’re the soft landing. He's a familiar face, the one who tells her she’s safe.”
She stiffens. “I can help inside.”
“You can,” I agree. “But we’re not entirely sure our recon is accurate. I’d feel better if it were me and Gideon. Plus, if noone sees you, they can’t ever link back that she’s hiding at your place.”
She hates it, but she also knows I’m right.
After a long moment, she exhales. “Fine. But you don’t get to be smug about it.”
Gideon murmurs, “He’s always smug.”
I ignore him.
Footsteps sound behind us—Talon returning from the balcony. His eyes are a little red, like he’s been trying not to break apart.
He looks at Penelope first, then at us.
He steps closer, bracing his hands on the table. “What do I do?”
Gideon answers before I can. “Stay quiet. Stay normal. Keep Abi from knowing you’re suspicious. That’s the biggest help right now. The day of, you sit in the car with Penelope and make sure she’s safe. We’ll get Minxy and bring her out. She’ll want to see you first.”
Talon nods, jaw clenched. “Okay.”
Penelope reaches out and touches his wrist. “Are you okay?”
He looks at her like she just placed a hand on his heart.
He doesn’t answer at first. Talon just stands there, staring at her hand on his wrist. His throat works once before any sound comes out.
“No,” he admits quietly. “I’m not okay. But I will be once she’s safe.”
Penelope’s expression softens. “You don’t have to pretend with us.”
He huffs a humorless laugh. “I’m not pretending. I’m just… holding it together long enough to be useful.”
Gideon leans back in his chair, studying him with that sharp, analytical stare. “You’re more than useful. You’re the reasonshe’ll walk out of that building alive. Don’t underestimate your place in this.”
