The house was quiet. Too quiet.
She moved through the living room. The space was empty now, blankets folded, glasses cleared, the last traces of the team gone.Whatever noise had filled the house last night had faded with them.
She looked around. The kitchen was dark. The hallway empty.
"Logan?"
No answer.
Then she noticed the back door standing open, a rectangle of bright afternoon light spilling across the floor. Ocean air drifted in, carrying salt and the distant sound of waves.
She moved toward it and stepped out onto the patio.
Sunlight hit her immediately, warm and almost too bright after the dim interior. The ocean stretched out below the cliffs, endless blue under a cloudless sky. Waves broke in steady rhythm against the rocks.
Logan stood near the railing, arms braced wide as he leaned forward, staring out at the water.
He didn't turn when she came outside.
But the moment she stepped through the doorway, his shoulders shifted slightly. The rigid line of his back eased just a fraction.
Rachel paused, watching him. He'd showered at some point, his hair was damp, and he'd changed into clean clothes. But driedblood still marked his bandaged knuckles. His shoulders were set, tension visible in every line of him.
She crossed the stone patio slowly, her bare feet warm against the sun-heated pavers.
"Hey," she said softly.
Logan turned his head, and the look he gave her was heavy. Worn. But when his eyes found hers, something in his expression gentled.
"Hey, baby."
Rachel stopped beside him, wrapping her arms around herself. "What time is it?"
"Almost three."
Her eyes widened. "Three? Why didn't you wake me?"
"You needed to sleep." His voice was quiet, certain. No room for argument.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sleep so late. You should've—"
"Rachel." He turned fully to face her now, reaching out to cup her face. "You have nothing to apologize for."
She leaned into his palm, closing her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she really looked at him. At the exhaustion etched into his face. The tightness around his eyes.
"What's wrong?"
He didn't answer right away. His hand dropped from her face, and he turned back toward the ocean. His jaw clenched once.
Then he shook his head.
"You should change your name," he said quietly. "Disappear for a while. Go somewhere safe. Somewhere in the middle of the countryside where no one knows who you are."
Her brow furrowed. "Logan—"
"I'm serious." His voice low. "You could build something normal. Find a place where no one's looking for you. Write under a different name. Leave this behind."
Rachel stared at him, caught off guard. He wasn't angry or distant, but the certainty in his voice cut deep.
