“Okay.”
“And you text—”
“Every thirty minutes,” she sighs.“I promised.”
Good.
Not enough.
But good.
Finn rubs the back of his neck.“I can make dinner before we take her—”
“No,” Wren says gently.“If we make a whole production of it, it defeats the purpose.I’m going home.Like a normal person.Just...walk me to the door.”
Kael nods once.“We can do that.”
I don’t say yes out loud.
But she looks at me, and whatever she sees is enough.
She softens just a little.“Atlas,” she says quietly, “I’ll be okay.”
“You better be,” I say, voice low.
She smiles—a small, strong thing that breaks and remakes me at the same time.
***
Later, when she headsto the shower, Finn slumps against the counter and rubs his face.
“I hate this.”
Kael doesn’t look up from the protection plan on his phone.“We all do.”
“She’s not scared,” Finn whispers.“She’s...determined.I don’t know how to argue with determined.”
“You don’t,” Kael says.“You support it.”
I stare at Wren’s empty seat.
Support her.
Right.
I can do that.
Even if it kills me.
“She’ll be alone,” Finn mutters.“All night.”
“No,” I say.
He looks up.
“She’ll be home,” I correct.“And we’ll be outside.”
Kael nods.“Same system as last night.But tighter.”
