He’s justthere, like he materialized out of the crowd. That same smile. That same look in his eyes that makes my skin crawl.
“So it’s true,” he says. “You’re back.”
I don’t respond. I shift my plate to one hand and try to step around him.
He moves with me. Blocking my path.
I go the other way. He mirrors it, smooth and unhurried, like we’re dancing and he’s leading.
My grip tightens on the plate. “Excuse me.”
“In a hurry?” He doesn’t move. “That’s a shame. We haven’t caught up in so long.”
“We’ve never caught up. We’ve never had a conversation.” I step left. He steps left. My jaw clenches. “Move.”
His smile widens. Like my anger is exactly what he wanted.
“There she is.” He tilts his head, studying me. “I was starting to think they’d housebroken you.”
I hold back a scoff.
“You can’t stop and talk to an old friend?” His smirk widens. “That’s rude.”
“We’re not friends.”
“No?” He tilts his head. “That’s too bad.”
He pauses. Looks down at me. Something shifts in his expression—darker, sharper.
Then he leans in.
His breath is warm against my ear. His voice is barely a whisper.
“They’re coming for you.”
I freeze.
“Say anything, and they’ll stop pretending your men are innocent.”
He pulls back. Smiling again. Like he didn’t just—
“What are you talking about?”
He smiles like it’s a secret he’s looking forward to watching me learn.
“You’ll see.”
“Is there a problem here?”
Trey’s voice. I turn and he’s right there, Locke and Rane flanking him. All three of them looking at Silas like they’re deciding how many pieces to leave behind.
“No.” Silas’s smile doesn’t waver. “No problem at all. Right, Nova?”
My throat is tight. I shake my head. “No. No problem.”
“Good.”
They lead me to the table and I let them. My legs feel like they’re made of something that isn’t quite solid.
