His voice drifted through the gap. Low. Tense. He was on the phone.
"—can't keep this from her forever."
I should have knocked. Should have announced myself. Should have done anything except stand there like a statue, holding my breath.
I didn't move.
"She doesn't know what she is." Cole's voice was rough. Strained in a way I'd never heard before.
My heart stopped.
"If it triggers, it'll happen fast. We both know that. One day she's fine, the next—" He broke off. I heard him exhale. "I've seen it before. You've seen it before."
Silence. Whoever was on the other end was speaking, but I couldn't make out the words.
"No." Cole's voice hardened. "I won't let it happen the way it happened to you. I don’t care. She's not going to end up like—"
He stopped.
I heard footsteps inside the office. Moving toward the door.
I should have run. Should have pretended I'd just arrived, was just about to knock. But my legs wouldn't work. My whole body had locked up, frozen by the words still echoing in my skull.
She doesn't know what she is.
If it triggers, it'll happen fast.
I won't let it happen the way it happened to you.
The door swung open.
Cole stood there, phone still in his hand, face draining of color as he saw me.
Neither of us spoke.
The silence stretched between us like a wire pulled too tight. I watched his expression shift—surprise to realization to something that looked almost like grief.
He knew I'd heard.
"Lumi." His voice was careful. Measured. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough."
He closed his eyes. Just for a second. When he opened them, they were guarded again. That wall back in place.
"Come inside. Let me explain."
"Explain what?" The words came out sharp. Brittle. "That I'm dangerous? That something's going to 'trigger' and I'm going to—what? Hurt someone? Kill someone?"
"It's not that simple."
"Then make it simple." I was shaking now. Could feel it in my hands, my voice, my chest. "Tell me what I am, Cole. Tell me what you’re so afraid of."
He didn't answer.
"You said she doesn't know what she is. You were talking about me." I stepped closer. He didn't back away this time. "So tell me. What am I?"
His jaw tightened. I watched him war with himself—the part that wanted to speak fighting against something stronger. Older. Whatever loyalties bound him, they were winning.
