Cute.
I tunnel in, pulling logs, tracing packets, watching the traffic flow like a living thing. He’s learned, which is why Lexy couldn’t keep up. I’ll give them respect for that. Every time they come back, though, they leave something behind. A timing delay that doesn’t quite add up. A reused encryption key they think I won’t notice. A habit of favoring the same routing pattern when he’s in a hurry.
There it is. There’s the kink.
I isolate the thread, unwrap it layer by layer, reverse-engineering the path while they’re still fingering my firewall. My fingers fly. Scripts run. Traps spring. I lock down one vector and watch him recoil.
You’re good. But you’re not better than me.
Then I punch through the final mask and see it.
The origin point flashes on my screen.
It’s unmistakable.
My breath leaves my body all at once.
No. No no no.
I stare at the location data, my reflection faint in the dark screen. This isn’t a distant threat. This isn’t some faceless opportunist halfway across the world.
This is close. Imminent.
I call Timanth, the plan forming as the line rings. She doesn’t answer but I don’t bother leaving a message or texting, not sure how close to the chest I need to keep this.
This is too big. Too risky. Too personal to handle from another country. I know what needs to happen.
I package the logs and send them straight to Anastasia, Timantha’s best friend. She’s the only other hacker I trust to read this without spiraling or minimizing it.
Then I go to my room and start packing.
The guilt hits in waves. Missing the pitch. Missing the gala. The dress still hanging, tags on, the memory of the way Eli askedme to go with him. I should feel worse about leaving. About not being there when it all comes to a head.
But then I think about the way he’s pulled back. The emotional retreat. The walls slamming into place so cleanly it’s almost surgical. And something in me hardens.
My job is done. I showed up. I delivered. If they screw up the pitch now, that’s on them, not me.
I call Eli. It goes straight to voicemail. No ring.
Wow.
That settles it.
I can’t stay here pretending I’m on pause while everything that matters waits for me somewhere else. I’ve been able to hide in these mountains, in the quiet, in borrowed calm, but that only works when your real life isn’t actively calling you back.
Whatever I came here to escape has caught up with me. And whatever comes next needs me present, not tucked away in someone else’s peace.
I can’t wait for Eli to come around.
I can’t sit here waiting for permission that may never come.
Permission to stay.
So I nod to myself, the decision settling in without ceremony. If he’s returning to the version of himself that keeps things contained and locked away, then I can do the same. I know how to be that woman. I was her long before I ever came here.
And with that, the choice is made.
I walk back out to the living room area where Lara is, bags in my hand and tears in my eyes.
