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“You stay with me,” I say.
Not a suggestion.
She doesn’t argue.
“I know.”
Good.
Because I’m not asking twice.
We move out fast.
Night air hits sharp, clean, grounding.
Vehicles ready.
Engines low.
Everything set.
I slide into the driver’s seat, Scout beside me before the door even fully opens.
Boone takes the lead vehicle.
We fall in behind.
Tight.
Controlled.
The drive is silent.
Not empty.
Focused.
Scout’s gaze is forward, but I can feel it—everything in her is tracking, calculating, holding steady under pressure that would break most people.
Not her.
Not anymore.
“You good?” I ask quietly.
She doesn’t look at me.
“Yes.”
A beat.
Then—
“Better than I was.”
That matters.
