“Dylan—” Alex starts.
“I’ll be right back.” I squeeze her hand. Try to smile. “Probably just wants to complain about Dad’s fake dog. You know Nikko.”
But Alex doesn’t smile back.
Because we both know that’s not what this is about.
I follow Nikko past the bathroom toward the storage hallway where no one can hear us.
The noise of the restaurant fades. Back here it’s quiet. Just us and stacks of supplies and the weight of whatever he’s about to say.
Nikko leans against the wall. Crosses his arms. That big brother stance. The one I’ve seen him use on Alex’s boyfriends. The one that saysexplain yourself before I decide you’re a threat.
“You’re going to get yourselves killed.”
The words cut through every excuse I was about to make.
“What are you?—”
“Don’t.” He cuts me off. “Don’t perform for me. I’ve known you since you were twelve years old, Dylan. I know when you’re lying.”
“Nikko—”
“I know my sister.” His voice is hard now. Chef voice. The one he uses when the line is falling apart and someone needs to fix it immediately. “I’ve known her her whole life and you just about. And I know when she’s lying to me. I’ve known since she was three years old and blamed the dog for eating her vegetables.”
“You don’t have a dog.”
“Exactly.” He doesn’t smile. “Whatever you two are investigating?—”
“We’re not?—”
“Dylan.” Just my name. But the way he says it. “Don’t lie to me. I can see it. The way you both jumped when Baba asked about work. The way you keep looking at each other like you’re sharing a secret. The way neither of you are actually eating, you’re just pushing food around like you’re fourteen and trying to hide that you’re not hungry.”
Fuck.
He’s right. We’re performing badly. The tells are everywhere.
“Nikko, I can’t?—”
“I’m not asking you to tell me.” His voice softens. Just slightly. “I’m not asking what. I’m asking you to be careful. Because if something happens to my sisters?—”
His voice breaks.
He doesn’t finish. Doesn’t need to.
I can see it in his eyes. The fear. The protectiveness. The absolute certainty that Alex is walking into something dangerous and he can’t stop her. That we are. Because he said sisters.
“We’re being careful,” I whisper.
“Are you?” He looks at me. Really looks at me. “Because you look terrified, Dylan. And my sister looks like she’s pretending not to be terrified. And that tells me whatever this is, it’s bad.”
I can’t lie to him. Can’t perform anymore.
So I just nod.
Nikko closes his eyes. Takes a breath. When he opens them again, his expression has shifted. Resigned. Worried. But accepting.
“If you need help—” he starts.
