This time, all three of us respond at once.
Finn: “We don’t care.”
Atlas: “He’s not a threat to us.”
Me: “You’re our priority.”
Wren lets out a sound—half-sob, half-breath—and tries to cover her face with her hands.
I reach out slowly and tap her wrist.
“Don’t hide,” I say gently.
She drops her hands, tears tracking down in quiet lines.She looks at each of us like she can’t believe we’re real.
“What happens now?”she whispers.
I take a breath.
“We take you home,” I say.“To one of our places.Your choice.”
She opens her mouth like she’s about to refuse.
Atlas cuts in, voice low, absolute.“You’re not sleeping alone.Not with him in the city.”
Finn nods quickly.“I’ve already grabbed an overnight bag.For me.You don’t need one.”
Wren looks overwhelmed—terrified, relieved, fragile, strong—everything at once.
I soften my voice again.“You’re not a burden.”
Her eyes flutter shut.A single tear falls.
“I know,” she whispers.“I...know.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard her say that.
The first time she’s believed it.
I pocket my phone and stand.
“Let’s go,” I say.“Before this room swallows you whole.”
Finn stands instantly.Atlas offers her his hand.She takes it without hesitation.
When she rises, she’s shaken, but upright.
And between the three of us, she stays that way all the way out the door.
