“You were always stubborn,” he muttered.
I laughed. “So were you.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but closer than I’d expected. Then he released my hand and followed the others out of the lobby.
I watched them go with the strange awareness that a chapter of my life had ended and nobody had bothered to announce it.
Dean nudged my shoulder. “Incoming.”
I was already feeling exhausted.
Helen crossed the lobby, a garment bag hung over one shoulder, and a phone occupying one hand, her attention focused on it.
I had no idea how she avoided colliding with furniture.
She stopped in front of us and slipped her phone into her pocket. Then she studied me before nodding.
“You look better.”
I laughed. “Good morning to you too.”
“Good morning. You still look tired though.”
“That’s because he is,” Dean informed her.
Helen glanced at him. “Thank you, Dean. I’m delighted we’ve established the obvious.”
Noah snorted into his coffee, and the tension lingering from the federation confrontation eased another notch.
Helen ignored him and glanced toward the entrance where the Velkaryan officials had already disappeared from sight. “I assume that conversation went about as well as expected.” The question was directed at me, but there was no urgency behind it.
“It could have been worse.”
Helen reached into her bag and pulled out a folder. She handed it to me.
“Your flight confirmation.”
I looked down at it. My name sat at the top of the page, followed by the departure time, the airline, a seat number… Ordinary information of a kind I’d seen many times before, but for some reason this felt different.
Helen waited while I read through it.
“This is for tomorrow morning.”
She nodded. “The same flight as the U.S. team.”
Dean leaned over to peer at it. “Window seat?”
I fought to suppress my smile.
Helen looked at him. “Obviously.”
“Good.”
She grinned. “I’m glad we’ve settled the important issue.”
Dean smiled. “I have priorities.”
“I’ve noticed.”
