She glances up and for a second, something soft flickers across her face. It’s gone almost immediately. But it was there.
“Hey,” she hums.
“Hey.”
Scott gives me a nod, then steps away, giving us space without making a thing of it.
I stop a few feet from her.
“You okay?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Yeah,” she says. “Just tired.”
“You feel like things have been off?” I ask instead deciding to be more direct about what I want to talk about.
Her gaze sharpens slightly. “Why?”
Because you’re not the only one noticing. “Just a feeling,” I say.
She studies me for a long moment. “…Yeah,” she admits quietly. “But it’s probably nothing.”
“No,” I say, firm and certain.
Her brow furrows. “Alex-”
“It’s not nothing,” I repeat. “And you shouldn’t ignore it.”
She crosses her arms defensively. “I’m not ignoring it,” she assures. “I’m just not jumping to conclusions.”
“Good,” I reply. “Don’t jump. But don’t dismiss it either.”
The flicker in her eyes tells me she hears the difference.
“I deal with weird calls all the time,” she says. “Patterns happen.”
“Not like this.”
Her jaw tightens slightly. “You don’t know that.”
“I do,” I counter.
I’ve seen patterns like this before, right before things escalate. Right before someone gets hurt.
Her gaze holds mine, searching. “Is this about me?” she asks.
“It’s about the case,” I prod, purposefully using the line I know she dislikes while giving her enough of a smirk to tell her that I’m teasing.
She exhales sharply. “Everything’s about the case with you,” she mutters.
“I need you to take this seriously,” I say.
“I am.”
“Then act like it.”
Her eyes flash. “There it is,” she snaps. “That tone.”
I exhale, forcing myself to ease back. “I’m not trying to control you,” I entreat.
