“Tested how?”
“Quick strike,” Brooke says. “In and out. Probing defenses.”
“Archer was there?”
“Yes,” Delilah confirms.
The bond flickers faintly at that. Relief. Sharp and immediate.
“See?” Brooke adds. “He’s fine.”
“I know,” I say quickly.
Too quickly. Delilah notices. Of course she does.
“He’ll keep doing that,” she says softly. “Responding to threats. Leading patrols. Putting himself between the town and whatever’s coming.”
“I figured,” I reply.
But knowing it andfeelingit are two very different things. Because this? This isn’t abstract anymore. It’s real. It’s constant. And it means every time he walks out that door?—
There’s a chance he doesn’t come back. I push that thought down hard. Not helpful.
Not productive.
“Which is exactly why I’m not going to shut this place down,” I say, gesturing around the shop. “I didn’t build this just to abandon it the second things get complicated.”
Brooke studies me. Then nods.
“Good,” she says.
Delilah’s gaze lingers a little longer, more thoughtful.
“We’re not asking you to hide,” she says. “But we are asking you to be aware.”
“I am aware,” I reply.
“Then you know this is only going to escalate,” she continues.
“I know.”
“And you’re still staying open?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation. No doubt. Because if I start giving things up now?—
Where does it stop?
Delilah holds my gaze for another beat. Then?—
She nods.
“Alright,” she says.
And just like that, the conversation shifts. Not over. Just… accepted.
They don’t leave. Not right away. Instead, they move through the shop under the pretense of helping—straightening shelves, adjusting displays, checking the back room. But I notice the details. The way Brooke quietly reinforces the back door lock. The way Delilah checks the windows, subtle but thorough. The way they position things so there’s a clearer line of sight from the counter.
