I look at him.
"Three. Different omegas, different packs, same patterns. Comfort restrictions. Isolation. One of them hadn't been allowed to leave her house in four months." He's looking at the hospital entrance, not at me. "I write them up. I flag them for Chase's desk. I file copies with the OPA. And then I go home and sit across from Ragon and eat dinner, pretending I didn’t stand by and watch the exact same pattern in the house I’m staying in."
"Jasper—"
"That's myjob, Eli. That's what I do. I'm a filing clerk with a conscience. I don't investigate. I don't have authority. I don't have Chase's connections or Arden's title. I take reports that describe exactly what happened to Vee and I put them in the system and I hope someone with more power than me does something about it." He sounds firm but there's a rawness underneath that I haven't heard from him before. "And I was sitting in this house watching it happen in real time and all I did was take notes."
"You were building a case—"
"I was building a file." The correction is hard. "Chase was building a case. I was organizing paperwork and telling myself the long game justified it." He exhales. "You want to know what's on the reports I file? The same language every time. Omega presented with signs of emotional neglect. Omega showed evidence of scent suppression consistent with prolonged distress. Omega's nesting materials were damaged or removed." He looks at me. "I've written those sentences about strangers a hundred times. I never wrote them about Vee. I should have. The first week I was in that house I should have filed on Ragon and demanded the OPA intervene with Arden as well. But I didn't because I was trying to be strategic."
"Chase asked you to wait."
"Chase asked me to gather evidence. There's a difference between gathering evidence and watching someone drown because you want better footage." He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. "I had the report template on my laptop. I could have filed it anonymously. Even a clerk can trigger a welfare check. But a welfare check would have blown my cover, Chase needed more time and I chose the timeline over her."
The words sit between us in the cold morning air.
"I see her sometimes," he says. Quieter now. "In the reports. Not literally, but the details overlap. An omega whostopped eating regularly. An omega who retreated to a single room. An omega whose scent went flat." He pauses. "I used to read those files and think someone should have noticed sooner. Now I know someone did notice.Inoticed. I was right there."
I don't have anything to say to that. Because he's right.
"And I held myself at arm's length from her on purpose. Not just because of the case. Because I was afraid." He says it like he's reporting a finding, clinical, but his hands are fists in his pockets. "I could see it. How easy it would be. She was always going to end up with Alex's pack. I could feel it before I had the evidence. The scent matches, the way Arden was steering things with the shirts, all of it pointing to the same conclusion. And I knew that if I let myself care about her—really care, not just as a case file—I'd have to watch her leave."
"With Alex’s pack."
"With Alex’s pack." The name sits differently in his mouth than everything else. Heavier. "I was afraid that if it came down to choosing—staying close to Vee or staying with Arden—I wouldn't survive the choice. So I made sure I'd never have to make it. I kept my distance. I told myself it was professional. But it was cowardice."
This is more than Jasper has ever said to me about anything personal. I'm careful not to move, not to react too much, because I can feel how fragile this is. How close he is to shutting it down.
"She needed me," he says. "Not as a case file. Not as a strategic asset. As a person. And I rationed myself because I was protecting my own heart." His lips thin. "That's the same calculus Ragon made. Different reasons, same result. The omega suffers because the alpha is managing his own feelings."
"That's not fair to yourself."
"It's accurate."
The parking lot is filling up. Morning shift coming in. Normal people going to normal jobs while two men who arebetraying their pack lead stand between their cars and try not to fall apart.
"And then there's the other thing," he says.
I wait. Though I already know what's coming.
"Arden texted me again last night." He says it flat. Factual. "Told me he loves me. That we're going to figure it out."
I don't say anything. There's nothing to say that I haven't already said. He's still leaving and I've stopped trying to talk him out of it.
"He's going to be at the hearing," Jasper says. "I'll see his face when this is over and he'll look at me the way he always looks at me and I'll walk away from it."
"You don't have to."
"Yeah. I do." He looks at the sky. "He and Chase have held to everything they promised. They've waited. They've built something worth having. I won't be the flaw in it."
"Jasper. He already forgave you. Chase knew what might happen in that room and he still asked you to stay. For Vee. Your promise isn’t as important to them as you think."
"I know. That's the worst part. It doesn’t change howIfeel." He straightens up. Pulls his hands out of his pockets. Reassembles the composure like putting on a coat. "We should go. Ragon will notice if we're both late."
I want to say something. Something that helps. Something that makes the look on his face less like a man who has already decided he doesn't deserve what's waiting for him on the other side of this.
But I don't have it. Because I'm carrying my own version of the same weight.
