“No.”
“Because you were the only one who knew what to do with it.”
Her eyes flick up to his.
For a second, neither of them speaks.
The room around them buzzes with quiet activity.
River coordinating with outside agencies.
Logan reporting from the rooftop.
Golden Team securing the remaining systems.
But Boone barely hears any of it.
Because Wren’s shoulders are still tight.
Still carrying the weight of what almost happened.
He steps closer.
Carefully.
“Hey.”
She looks up again.
“You didn’t miss anything tonight,” he says.
“You stopped it.”
Her voice softens.
“With about four minutes left.”
“That’s still stopping it.”
She studies his face.
“You’re impossible.”
“I’ve heard that.”
Her breath catches slightly.
Then she laughs quietly.
Not the sharp nervous kind.
A real one.
Relief.
Boone reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair away from her face.
“You scared me back there.”
