Behind me, I hear Logan moving. Not rushed. Not tense.
Normal.
That should settle me.
It doesn’t.
“You feel it,” I say.
Not a question.
A statement.
A beat.
Then—
“Yeah.”
Of course he does.
I exhale slowly, folding my arms as I track the perimeter again, forcing myself to break it down piece by piece.
“Nothing’s out of place,” I murmur.
“That’s the problem,” Logan says.
I glance at him.
He’s already watching me.
Not the perimeter.
Me.
“You’re ahead of it,” he adds.
“I’m trying to be.”
A pause.
“No,” he says quietly. “You are.”
That should steady me.
It usually does.
But the feeling doesn’t go away.
It sharpens.
Like something is sliding into position just out of sight.
“Tessa,” I say suddenly.
Logan doesn’t hesitate. “Inside.”
“Alone?”
