“No.”
I smile.
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Outside the diner—
The small town continues its quiet morning.
Cars roll slowly past the square.
A dog barks somewhere down the street.
Life moves on like nothing is wrong.
But Boone opens the truck door and looks back at me.
“Ready?”
I take one last glance at the peaceful town.
Then climb in beside him.
“Yes.”
Because somewhere inside the infrastructure grid—
Sentinel’s system is still alive.
Still learning.
Still evolving.
And this time—
I’m not leaving it running.
Not for anyone.
58
Boone
The river is quiet when we get back.
Too quiet.
Wren walks ahead of me across the yard, already moving with the focus I saw in Los Angeles.
The moment she made the decision, something shifted.
The relaxed woman fishing on the dock yesterday—
Gone.
Now she’s the engineer who stopped a city from collapsing.
