Her shoulders tighten.
Only then do I notice how pale she is.
I shrug out of my jacket and drape it over her without asking. She doesn’t protest. That matters more than words.
“You altered his system,” I say. “On purpose.”
“Yes.”
“You knew it would cost you.”
“Yes.”
I meet her eyes again, and this time I don’t look away.
“You didn’t hesitate.”
Her mouth curves—not a smile. Something quieter.
“Neither did you.”
That lands harder than it should. I’m still trying to figure out how all of that happened. I don’t say anything to Scout. She looks like she needs to rest her mind for a while.
I slide one arm behind her back, careful, giving her the choice. She leans into the support without pride or apology.
When I lift her, she’s lighter than I expect—and warmer. Real.
Her hand grips my sleeve briefly, fingers tightening just enough to anchor herself.
Not fear.
Trust.
We move fast but silent, my team clearing corridors ahead of us. The facility feels smaller now. Stripped. Hollow.
“You were watching the timing,” she murmurs against my shoulder as we walk.
“Yes.”
“And you knew when to come.”
“I knew whenyousaid it was time.”
Her breath catches—not in pain, in surprise.
“Raine was right, you are good at what you do.”
I glance down without thinking.
She’s watching me.
Really watching me.
For the first time, I’m aware of the closeness. The way her hair brushes my jaw. The way her pulse jumps beneath my hand.
This is not the place for it.
But it’s there anyway.
