For once, he doesn’t have a clever line.
Just something quieter.
More real.
He takes her hand, shaking it once, firmly.
Like she didn’t just outplay a man who thought he controlled the world—
Like she rewrote the rules that world runs on.
Then he steps back.
And just like that—
they’re gone.
The space feels bigger without them.
Quieter.
Heavier.
Ronan stays.
Of course he does.
He’s standing near the screens, watching the fallout ripple outward in real time.
News feeds.
Government statements.
Emergency sessions.
All of it unraveling.
“They’re going to dismantle half of Europe’s oversight architecture,” he says. “And that’s just the beginning.”
He doesn’t sound surprised.
Just… observant.
Lark sits beside me on the couch, wrapped in a blanket like she just remembered she has a body.
Like the adrenaline finally let go—
and left her with everything underneath it.
“You okay?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer right away.
She thinks.
Because she always does.
Then—
