Sneaking a glance out of the alley, they found the way clear and slipped out, just in time to see Will disappear through a warehouse door, two of the men accompanying him, the others remaining outside.
Ada and Jonny kept to the shadows, watching the door close behind him.
A beat of quiet.
“We can’t follow him,” Jonny said, worry in his tone.
“He can do this,” Ada said with as much reassurance as she could muster. “We have to believe that and have faith in him. He’s come this far over the years.”
“That was before he decided to turn against them,” Jonny muttered. “What if he gives himself away?”
“He won’t,” Ada said. “We have to trust him.”
Jonny didn’t answer immediately. His hand brushed hers—accidental, lingering. He looked at the warehouse, at the danger ahead, and nodded.
“I suppose. We stay as close as we can. And we trust him.”
Ada’s heart stuttered, heat blooming beneath her ribs. We. Not heroics. Not protection. Partnership.
They drifted away once the area quieted, slipping through side streets instead of retracing their steps. The fog thickened, swallowing sound, and Ada felt the evening’s weight settleinto her bones — the kind that came from purpose, not fatigue.
She wanted nothing more than to return to Jonny’s house and to lose herself in him again, but they had made a promise, one that they both intended to keep.
“We go report in?” Jonny said, lifting a brow, and she nodded in agreement.
Warmth hit Ada first. Then cinnamon and yeast. Minnie’s hearth glowed, a kettle steaming gently in the house she and Tommy had rented and made their own last year.
When they appeared in the doorway, Minnie gasped and rushed forward, fussing with Ada’s collar before thrusting a mug into her hand. “You’re freezing. Look at your fingers!”
Ada smiled at her friend’s motherly instincts but accepted the steaming tea anyway.
Jonny deflected with a shrug. “We were fine.”
Tommy snorted from beside the fire, wiping cinnamon from his hands, as he had obviously found the buns before his guests had even arrived. “Hard to believe that when I’ve never heard you say anything different.”
“Wearefine,” Jonny insisted, meeting the gazes of Rhys and Colin with Tommy by the fire, while Emmaline and Lily waited by the table, Emmaline holding Minnie’s baby in her arms.
“What happened?” asked Colin.
“Nothing,” Jonny said, shaking his head, his dismay evident. “We followed Will, intending to watch him, make sure he was safe, find out anything that we could — but he just disappeared into a warehouse, with too many men outside of it for us to get close.”
“That’s not nothing,” Emmaline countered. “You know where he went and you know how many men were watching.”
“True,” Jonny noted.
“And we know the signal of approval,” Ada added. “Not just anyone can get inside.”
Sit,” Minnie said, waving them to the table and placing fresh buns before each of them. Jonny sat beside Ada, his thigh brushing hers beneath the table. He didn’t pull away — in fact, he only pressed closer against her.
Their friends let them eat for the moment, as utensils clinked and the women murmured in low tones to one another.
As they discussed their next movement, Ada reached under the table and laced her fingers with Jonny’s. He squeezed back, not looking at her — because he didn’t need to.
They didn’t need the words. Not now. Not here.
They both knew they had found steadiness and strength in one another. It was what they had to hold onto to make it through this.
“I brought something for you,” Lily said.
