I hand the phone back carefully, like it’s a fragile thing.“Ten.”
Finn’s grin could power a small city.
The clock nudges toward noon.The day has to happen eventually.Practice exists.Film sessions exist.The world doesn’t stop because I slept on a couch between three men and remembered how to be a person who wants.
Kael is the one who breaks the gentle spell without popping it.“We need to make a plan,” he says, not to drag me back into fear, but to keep fear from sneaking back in on its own.“Ops will send the crowd-camera packet before we head in.If there’s a match, we loop security.If there isn’t, we treat it like a maybe until it’s a no.”
Atlas nods, jaw flexing.“I’ll meet you at the rink early.I want a walk-through.”
“I’ll be with her,” Finn says immediately, like the words were waiting in his mouth for an opening.“We’ll go together.”
My instinct is to say I can go alone.My instinct is outdated.
“Okay,” I say instead.It surprises all of us a little.
Finn exhales like I just gave him permission to breathe.
Kael folds his arms, thinking.“Two practicals for you,” he says to me.“New number today.New phone if you want.We can have the team’s liaison set it up fast and port over what you ask for.”
I look at the drawer that holds the old one.The idea of turning it on makes my skin crawl.“New everything,” I say, quiet.“Please.”
“Done,” Kael says.He’s already texting, thumbs moving with quiet precision.“Second: tell your landlord maintenance needs to recheck the building fob system.We’ll get you a chain and door bar today.We’ll also run a quick pass through your fire escape and windows.”
“You’re not installing a camera in her bedroom,” Finn says, nose wrinkled at the thought.
Kael doesn’t blink.“No cameras inside.Common areas in the hall if the landlord agrees.”
Atlas’s gaze cuts to me.“And the door stays locked.”
I nod.“The door stays locked.”
It isn’t a rule that cages.It’s one that keeps a promise.
Finn stands and stretches, shirt riding up to show a sliver of skin that makes my brain go fuzzy for a dangerous second.“We should go in early,” he says, softer.“You want a ride, or you want us to meet you there?”
“Ride,” I say before I can overthink it.
Atlas retrieves my coat.Kael finds my scarf where I dropped it last night and wraps it around my neck with a care that makes my throat go tight.Finn disappears into the hall and returns with my tote bag because he noticed yesterday that I always forget it.
They move around my apartment like they’re part of how it works now.
Maybe they are.
We step into the hallway.Kael sweeps the stairwell with his eyes without making it look like a sweep.Finn takes the first step down backward just to watch me smile when I pretend to shove him.Atlas walks one pace behind, body big enough to make a shadow feel like a shield.
Outside, winter bites and I don’t flinch.The sky is pale.The air tastes like clean.
A kid in a Reapers knit hat recognizes Finn at the curb and practically vibrates out of his boots.Finn signs his tiny glove and asks for the kid’s name like it’s the most important thing he’ll hear all day.Atlas nods at the kid’s mom, a small and serious courtesy.Kael scans plates and faces and then looks back at me.
“Ready?”he asks.
I am.
I didn’t plan to be.
At the SUV, Finn opens the back door and bows absurdly.“After you, Ms.Harper.”
I climb in, laughing.Atlas smothers a smile like he’s afraid it’ll get loose and break something.Kael mirrors Finn’s bow so dryly I snort.
