She surveys us—Takhiss standing guard, me leaning near the counter—and an expression that’s nearly satisfaction flickers in her eyes.
“Well, well,” she says, voice smooth as oil and twice as dangerous. “The happy family.”
Takhiss doesn’t move. His claws flex at his sides. I step forward, keeping my voice steady.
“Autrua,” I greet. “To what do we owe the pleasure? And the bypass of our security?”
She smiles, unbothered. “I wanted to see this—to witness the fruit of our efforts.” She nods at Vex. “Beautiful child. You both wear parenthood well.”
I force a nod. “Thank you.”
She turns to Takhiss. “You’ve done well. Redemption suits you.”
He bristles. “Redemption isn’t your ledger to balance.”
She glances at me. “Ella, you’ve done remarkable work too. Stability. Home. Safety. Something many claimants never produce.”
I watch her weigh us. I sense her asking,How much are they worth?I steel myself.
“What do you want now, Autrua?”
She lifts a single finger, wandering toward the window to look out at the scrapyard. “Simply to ensure that this ‘restoration’ is permanent. That no one can challenge your status or his.” She turns back, looking me square in the eye. “Children need structure, Ella. A claim. Oversight. Governance.”
I feel my blood cool. “Governance.”
“Precisely.”
I tilt my head. “So the paperwork can cut us apart again.”
She lets that hang. She doesn’t deny it. She simply steps back. “I see you understand. Good. I’ll take my leave—for now.”
She glides away. The door hisses shut behind her, the lock re-engaging with a mocking click.
The soft echo of her presence lingers like smoke.
Takhiss watches the door, face taut. I cross into his space. He reaches for me immediately.
I take his hand. My voice drops. “We have to prepare.”
He nods without asking. He’s already breathing in the danger.
After she leaves, we work. It’s the only way to burn off the adrenaline. We stack baby clothes, fix cables, secure theperimeter. The workshop smells of oil, solder, and something warmer—defiance.
We talk in whispers.
“I’m starting research on guardianship laws,” I say, scrolling through a datapad. “I’m contacting Tribunal Advocates tomorrow. If there’s a loophole, I’ll find it.”
He stiffens. “You don’t need to do this on your own.”
I shake my head. “You’re already fighting so much just to exist here. Let me carry some. If they file a claim?—”
He interrupts, stopping my hand. “I will fight it. I will not lose you or Vex to their paper wars.”
I taste tears. “I won’t let you.”
He draws me close. “We’ll survive this.”
And for a moment, everything is safe in his arms. Nothing else exists but us.
