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Closer than she’s been to anything tonight.
This is it.
This is where it hits.
“Tessa, look at me,” Scout says, voice soft—but not small. Controlled. Present.
Tessa’s breathing is uneven.
Fast.
“They said—you wouldn’t come—”
“I’m here,” Scout repeats.
And just like that—
Tessa steadies.
Not completely.
But enough.
That’s her.
That’s who Scout is.
I cut the restraints quickly.
“Can you stand?” I ask.
Tessa nods.
Scout helps her up—careful, steady, supportive, without overwhelming her.
“Easy,” Scout murmurs.
Tessa leans into her slightly.
Trust.
Immediate.
Deep.
I scan the room again.
Still nothing.
No movement.
No resistance.
No Sentinel.
And that—
That’s the problem.
