He steps forward.
Lifts my chin gently with two fingers.
Searches my face.
Something breaks in his expression.Something sharp and awful and protective.
Then he turns to Kael.
“We’re not staying,” Atlas says.“We’re getting her out of here.Now.”
Kael nods once.“Pack what she needs.”
Finn disappears into my bedroom without waiting for instructions.
Atlas looks at me again.“You’re not coming back here tonight.”
His voice leaves no room for argument.
I should argue anyway.
I should reclaim some control.
I should prove I’m not a victim.
But all I can do is whisper, “Okay.”
Because the truth is simple:
I don’t feel brave anymore.
Not tonight.
And I don’t have to pretend in front of them.
Finn returns with my backpack, stuffed, the zipper half-done, clothes sticking out in places.He hands it to me like it’s made of glass.
“Got your chargers,” he murmurs.“And your inhaler.And, um...a book you left on your nightstand.”
I blink.“My book?”
He shrugs.“You always read before bed.”
My chest tightens.
Kael steps toward the shattered door.“We’re going out the back.Fewer eyes.”
Atlas positions himself behind me—close enough to shield me, far enough not to crowd.
But Finn is the one who takes my hand.
He doesn’t ask.
He doesn’t force.
He just...offers.
A silent is this okay?
