And now—
Now I get to decide what happens when pressure hits it again.
This time—
I won’t fold inward.
I’ll stand.
And I won’t do it alone.
29
Sentinel
They didn’t separate.
Sentinel studies the updated feed in silence, the soft glow of the screen reflecting in his eyes.
Stillness.
Control.
Precision.
But beneath that—
Adjustment.
“They’re maintaining proximity,” the man beside him says carefully.
Sentinel doesn’t respond right away.
He watches.
Scout Fallon—standing at the table.
Carter—within reach.
Not hovering.
Not distant.
Aligned.
That wasn’t the expected outcome.
“She corrected,” Sentinel murmurs.
The man glances at him. “Sir?”
“She felt the pressure,” Sentinel continues. “And instead of withdrawing… she adapted.”
That’s new.
That’s—
Interesting.
