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A beat.
“And we give him time to adjust.”
Logan studies me.
Measuring.
Trusting.
The weight of the decision sits between us.
Because there isn’t a clean option.
There never was.
“We go through,” I say.
Carefully.
Precisely.
“On our terms.”
Logan
She’s right.
I don’t like it.
Not even a little.
But she’s right.
If we hesitate now—
We’re already reacting.
And reacting is how he wins.
I nod once.
“Together.”
“Always.”
We shift positions slightly.
Tighter.
More aligned.
Every movement deliberate.
Every step controlled.
We approach the line.
The invisible edge where instinct starts to push harder—louder—warning, danger, wrong.
