Ben shrugs. “You could ask?”
I rub at my forehead, which is suddenly pounding. “Okay. Just for breakfast.”
Ben whoops and flies off the bed, disappearing in a blur of pajamas and boundless energy.
I throw on jeans and a soft sweater and call Jav before I can change my mind. He answers on the second ring, voice low and amused.
“You miss me already?”
“You left a frosting trail,” I say dryly. “Ben wants breakfast.”
“I’m on my way.”
By the time he arrives,the waffle iron is hissing, and I’ve made a mental checklist of exactly how to keep this casual. Controlled. Civil.
All of it goes out the airlock the moment Jav walks through the door with a bag of fresh berries and a cocky smile.
“Mornin’, teacher,” I mutter, trying not to melt.
“Morning, mama,” he replies with a wink.
Ben races up and grabs his hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Jav doesn’t hesitate—just ruffles his hair and crouches beside him to ask if he wants extra whipped cream today.
It’s surreal. The two of them, side by side, laughing over toppings and waffle patterns. It should feel like a dream or a trap. Instead, it feels like... a life. Like the life I sometimes imagine when the lights are off and my defenses are down.
Jav moves through my kitchen like he belongs here. He plates waffles like a chef, even warms the syrup. Ben chatters non-stop. I barely have to say a word.
Then his Holopad pings.
He checks it casually at first. But I watch his posture shift. Shoulders tight. Jaw ticking once.
He moves to the corner to answer it, murmuring something low in that other language, the one he switches to when things get... less savory.
I follow.
Over his shoulder, I see the caller ID: Rexil Nine.
I know that name.
“Who is that?” I ask, my voice already hardening.
Jav doesn’t turn around. “It’s nothing urgent.”
“Try again.”
He exhales slowly, still not facing me. “Just... a contact. From before.”
I step back like I’ve been slapped.
“You’re still in it,” I whisper.
“Kairo—”
“No. Don’t do that. Don’t lie. You’re still connected. You brought it here, into my home. Around Ben.”
He finally looks at me, and his expression twists—anger, guilt, something unnameable all flashing at once.
“I’ve kept him safe. Iamkeeping him safe.”
