“I didn’t do it for your trust,” she says.
“I did it because I loved you.”
And for the first time since I lost her—
I finally understand what that cost.
Later That Night
I don’t sleep.
I lie on my back in the dark safehouse bedroom, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet town outside.
Montana doesn’t know it’s in danger yet.
Every time I close my eyes, I see the same thing.
A file.
A timestamp.
Fourteen minutes.
Fourteen minutes that destroyed two lives.
I scrub a hand over my face.
A door opens across the hall.
Soft footsteps.
The knock is hesitant.
“Yeah,” I say.
I’m already sitting up.
She stands in the doorway wearing jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, her hair loose around her shoulders.
No armor.
No distance.
Just Wren.
“I couldn’t sleep either,” she says.
“Figures.”
She hesitates.
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
And I mean more than the word.
The room feels different when she enters.
