Silence.
Me talking for Wren.
They don’t get that.
Wren sits between Finn and Atlas, hands clasped loosely in her lap.I sit beside Atlas, bracing for the moment she breaks.
She doesn’t.
Santos clears her throat.“Wren, we can walk you through this gently if it’s too fresh.”
Wren shakes her head.“It’s okay.I know what happened.I can talk.”
Finn’s knee bumps hers.Atlas lays his hand over the back of her chair.I keep my gaze on her, ready to step in if she falters.
She doesn’t falter.
“He was in my apartment,” she says, voice even.“He came through the door.I didn’t know he was there until I left the shower.”
The air tightens.
“He didn’t touch me,” she continues.“But he blocked the hall.He talked.He told me to get dressed.Then he heard something and left through the back window.”
Her voice shakes once.
Just once.
My hand curls into a fist.
Santos nods, typing.“Do you know how he got in?”
“He must’ve picked the locks,” Wren says.“All three.”
Atlas growls low in his throat.Finn’s jaw works.I place a hand on the table to ground myself before I break it in half.
Leung leans forward.“You did everything right.”
Wren swallows.“I don’t feel like I did.”
“You came here today,” I say quietly.“That’s more strength than most people ever find.”
She looks at me like she hears something deeper in my voice.Maybe she does.
***
When the statementsend, Ops dismisses us.
Wren stands slowly, exhaling like she’s been holding her breath for hours.
Finn hovers at her side, gaze searching her face.
Atlas steps close, lowering his voice.“You did good.”
She meets his eyes.“Thank you.”
She turns toward me.
And the look she gives me is something I’ll remember for a long time—fragile, strong, trusting, broken, rebuilt.
