I passed the cigarette back to Cam. Our fingers brushed, just barely. She took a long drag, then returned it to me. We continued this exchange in silence as the cigarette burned down, sharing this small, quiet intimacy between us. It wasn't sexual or romantic. It was just... human. Two people existing together in a moment of truth.
Around us, dusk deepened into night. Stars appeared one by one above the trees. The ember of the cigarette glowed brighter as darkness fell, like a tiny beacon in our shared solitude.
Cam finally broke the silence. "You should be just a job. But you aren’t." Her voice was low, almost reluctant.
"Just words," I said. The bitterness coated my tongue like the cigarette's aftertaste.
"I'm not good with them." She took another drag, the ember flaring orange in the growing darkness. She held the smoke in her lungs for a long moment before exhaling slowly. "But I've done a lot of jobs with these women. I know them."
The smoke curled between us, dissipating into the night air. Her profile was sharp against the darkening sky, all clean lines and quiet certainty.
"And I can tell you," she continued, "you are not just a job to any of us." She paused, and I felt her gaze slide toward me. "Not even to Alex."
I scoffed. "Fuck Alex."
Cam didn't flinch at my venom. Instead, she turned fully toward me, her dark eyes steady on mine. "I hear you," she said simply. "And I see through it."
I looked at her, caught off guard by her directness. Most people backed away from my anger, but Cam leaned into it. Her eyes held mine without judgment or expectation, just a quiet understanding that made my chest tighten. No one had ever looked at me like that before, like they could see past all my carefully constructed walls to the raw hurt beneath.
"Look who raised her," Cam said, her voice softer now. The cigarette between her fingers had burned down to the filter, the orange glow barely visible. "But she cares."
I wanted to argue. Wanted to hold onto my anger like a shield. But sitting here in the cold dark with Cam's quiet certainty beside me, some of the fight leaked out of me.
My eyes drifted to the driveway again, that long gravel stretch disappearing into darkness. I could leave. The gate was right there. But I wouldn't. Not because of the cold or my ankle or the Bellantes. Because somewhere in the last hour, I'd made a choice without realizing it.
The van keys sat in Cam's pocket now. That felt right, somehow. Like I'd handed over more than just metal and plastic. Like I'd admitted something I wasn't ready to say out loud.
The cold finally registered, seeping deep into my bones. My body was done with this rebellion, demanding warmth and shelter even if my mind wasn't ready to forgive.
I took the cigarette from her fingers, our skin brushing briefly. I inhaled one last time, feeling the burn in my lungs, somehow less harsh than before. With a flick of my wrist, I sent the butt arcing into the gravel, where it joined the darkness. Evidence that we'd been here. That this moment had happened.
I stood, my legs stiff from sitting on the cold step. Looking down, I found Cam still seated, her face tilted up toward mine. She didn't move to follow me, didn't try to convince me of anything more. She just waited, patient and steady, a fixed point in my spinning world.
"Fuck Alex," I said again, but the words lacked their earlier heat.
I turned and walked back inside, letting the side door close behind me with a soft click that echoed in the quiet night.
31
Alex
I stepped through theback door, muscles loose from the morning patrol, sweat cooling at my temples. The kitchen smelled like coffee and toast. Kara leaned against the counter in her usual spot, one ankle crossed over the other, while Ellie stood at the stove flipping something that sizzled. Cam sat at the table, flipping through a clipboard with one hand, fork in the other.
And there was Sabine.
She hadn't joined us for breakfast in days. Her red hair was pulled back in a messy bun, dark circles under her eyes less pronounced than yesterday. Progress. She glanced up at me, then back down at her coffee.
"Morning," I said, hanging my jacket on the hook by the door.
Kara pushed a mug toward me. "Coffee's fresh."
I poured myself a cup, breathing in the steam. "Thanks."
"Kara was telling us about the time she got stuck in an air duct during an op," Ellie said to me, sliding a plate of eggs toward Sabine.
"I never got stuck," Kara protested. "I was waiting for the target to leave."
"For three hours?" Ellie raised an eyebrow.
