“Magnus is going to love this,” he mutters.
“Magnus can confirm it himself if he checks the border trails again,” I say.
Conrad looks back at me. “And your read on it?”
I hesitate only briefly.
“They’re watching something specific,” I say. “Not the town. Not the roads.”
His eyes narrow. “Her.”
I don’t answer. I don’t need to.
“That’s not confirmation,” he says carefully.
“It is for me.”
A beat of silence passes.
Then he nods once, sharply. “We increase patrol density. Night rotations. No gaps.”
“Good.”
“And you?”
“I stay near the bookstore.”
His gaze sharpens again. “Archer?—”
“I’m not shifting anything,” I cut in. “Just staying close enough to intercept if they push again.”
He studies me.
“You’re already too close,” he says.
I don’t deny it. Because it’s true.
But I still say, “I can handle it.”
Conrad lets out a slow breath. “Just don’t give anyone a reason to connect you to her.”
“I won’t.”
The words are immediate. Controlled. Clean. But neither of us fully believes how easy that will be. Because even now, every instinct I have is pulling me in her direction again. And I’m running out of room to pretend it isn’t happening.
7
TESSA
The bookstore is starting to look like something. Not finished. Not even close. But something.
I stand back near the counter, hands on my hips, surveying the progress with cautious satisfaction. The shelves—what’s left of them—are straighter now. The books are no longer stacked in chaotic piles. The space feels… intentional.
“Okay,” I say. “This is happening.”
A grand reopening. The idea had come to me sometime between reorganizing the third box of inventory and realizing I needed a goal that wasn’t just “fix everything.”
Something tangible. Something that makes this real to other people—not just me.
