My hand found his thigh without thought, fingers splaying comfortably over plush warmth. He didn’t tense. Didn’t glance down. Just let it be there, like it belonged—which, of course, it did.
I leaned down, lips brushing the crown of his head, breathing him in—hot chocolate, clean skin, and something undeniablyhome.
Elior hummed again, content, eyes still on the screen.
“Why don’t you lie on my lap now that your cocoa is finished?” I suggested.
“Oh, yes!”
He didn’t even hesitate. Elior turned and lay down so his head settled in my lap, cheek pressed against my thigh, blanket still wrapped around him like a cocoon.
“I love you,” he whispered, closing his eyes.
* * *
“The defense apparently needs him to testify again. There’s not much we can do about it. I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes.
For a second—just a second—I let myself imagine crushing the phone in my hand.
“How many times will he have to do this?” I hissed, rubbing hard at my temple like I could grind the pressure out of my skull. “Didn’t they get enough from him already?”
Patel didn’t answer right away, which told me everything Ineeded to know.
“Jace,” he said carefully, like someone approaching a sedated animal they weren’t entirely sure was fully sedated. “This is the system. The defense is grasping. They’re trying to poke holes. Wear him down. Make him contradict himself.”
My jaw locked. “Because that worked so well the first time,” I said flatly.
“I know,” Patel replied. “But if we refuse, it looks bad. And if he doesn’t cooperate, they’ll spin it. You know that.”
I did.
That didn’t make it easier.
“When?” I asked.
“A few weeks.”
I made a low sound in my throat that wasn’t quite a growl, wasn’t quite a laugh.
“Great,” I muttered.
We wrapped it up not long after that. Reassurances. Logistics. The kind of conversation that pretended human beings were just pieces on a board.
When the line went dead, I stayed exactly where I was, phone still pressed to my ear, staring at nothing.
A few weeks.
I thought of Elior in bed this morning, warm and pliant and safe. Of the way he’d blinked up at me when I adjusted the blanket. Of how easily he trusted that I wouldn’t let anything hurt him.
My grip tightened until my knuckles ached.
I could make this stop.
The thought came fully formed and seductive.
I knew how to disappear. I had money that wasn’t traceable in any meaningful way. Passports could beobtained—real ones, not sloppy forgeries. There were places where the internet was a suggestion and records were negotiable.
