“No armed security teams.”
“Not usually.”
“Usually?”
“Well…”
I shrug.
“Sometimes Blade or one of the others visits.”
She laughs.
“That doesn’t sound reassuring.”
I grab our bags from the truck.
“Come on.”
She follows me up the porch steps.
The screen door creaks open the same way it always has.
Inside—
The house feels exactly the same.
Wood floors.
Stone fireplace.
A big couch facing the river through the back windows.
Wren walks slowly through the living room.
Running her hand across the edge of the kitchen counter.
“You actually live here.”
“Sometimes.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning work tends to interrupt.”
She turns toward the back windows.
The water stretches endlessly behind the house.
Golden sunlight dancing across the surface.
“This place feels…”
She pauses.
“…safe.”
I nod.
