Something shifted in Astoria’s expression, a crack in the rigid stillness, something raw bleeding through.
“I don’t want to stop,” Astoria said quietly. “I know I should. The safe thing would be to walk away until the case is over. ButI—” She stopped, her jaw tightening. “I’m not ready to lose this, whatever this is.”
“Neither am I.”
Astoria’s hand slid down to Miller’s shoulder, gripping it lightly. “We’ll space out the meetings even more and vary everything. We’ll be smarter about it.”
“And if that’s not enough?”
Astoria didn’t answer for a long moment. When she did, her voice was steady, but Miller could hear the fear underneath it, the same fear that had been festering in her own chest all day. “Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. But I’m not giving you up just because Valerie is paranoid.” Her grip tightened. “She’s taken enough from me. She doesn’t get to take this too.”
Miller reached up and covered Astoria’s hand with her own. They stood like that in the fading light, the city humming twenty-one floors below, the weight of everything said and unsaid pressing around both of them.
This was the first time the outside world had really intruded on their own little bubble, leaking through the cracks. Miller could feel it changing the texture of everything: the room, the air, the space between their bodies.
“I’m sorry,” Miller said. “For bringing this here. For making tonight about fear instead of?—”
“Don’t.” Astoria cut her off. “Don’t apologize for telling me the truth. I’d rather know.”
She would, Miller realized. After so many years of manipulations, never knowing what was real or calculated, Astoria would always rather know. Even when knowing was terrifying.
Miller leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Astoria’s, their breath mingling in the small space between them.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, we’ll be more careful. We’ll figure it out.”
“Together,” Astoria whispered so faintly Miller almost didn’t hear it.
“Together,” she echoed.
The word felt like a promise and a plea, and Miller wasn’t sure which one they needed more. Miller could feel Astoria’s pulse beneath her palm where their hands were still joined, quick and unsteady.
“I hate this,” Miller said quietly. “I hate that she’s in my head, even when I’m here with you.”
“She’s good at that.” Astoria’s voice was brittle. “Getting inside heads and taking up space.”
Miller pulled back just enough to look at her. Astoria’s face was drawn, the softness from earlier replaced by something guarded. She looked defensive, like the way she had in those early days.
She couldn’t stand it.
“Hey.” She tilted Astoria’s chin up with her finger gently until their eyes met. “She’s not here. It’s just us.”
“I know.” But Astoria’s gaze flicked toward the door, just for a second, as if expecting it to burst open.
“Astoria, look at me.”
She did, and Miller saw the fear underneath the composure, the way Astoria was holding herself together through sheer force of will. This was what Valerie had done to her. She was unable to feel safe even behind a locked door, twenty-one floors above the city, in a room no one knew they were in.
“She doesn’t get to have this,” Miller said fiercely. “She doesn’t get to be in this room with us, not tonight.”
“Miller—”
“I meant it.” Miller’s thumbs traced along Astoria’s cheekbones. “I’ve spent all day terrified. I don’t want to spendtonight that way too. I want—” Her voice caught. “I just want to be here with you. Just you, no ghosts.”
Astoria’s breath shuddered out of her. Her hands came up to grip Miller’s wrists, holding on like Miller was the only solid thing in the room.
“I don’t know how to turn it off,” Astoria admitted. “The fear. It’s like…she trained me to expect the worst, to always be waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“I know.” Miller leaned in, pressing her lips to Astoria’s forehead. “I know.”
