I don’t answer.
Just step closer.
My fists ball at my sides.
I want to swing.
Hard.
Right across his smug face.
But I don’t.
He turns slowly, and the grin fades when he sees my expression.
“Well. That’s not your usual broody stormcloud look. What happened—Verzius call your kid a gremlin again?”
I flinch.
He catches it.
Raises a brow.
“No,” I say.
Then I turn and walk out.
Before I make a mistake.
Before I give him something to use.
I head for Nova’s quarters like my body’s moving on instinct.
The hallway’s quiet. Too quiet. Like even the air knows something’s about to break.
I key the panel.
Locked.
Of course.
I override it. She gave me clearance. Weeks ago. When things were still good. Before I knew.
The door slides open.
Empty.
The lights are dim, casting long shadows across the floor. The blanket on the couch is rumpled. A mug sits on the edge of the table, half-full, gone cold.
But what wrecks me is the toy on the floor.
Dar’s.
A tiny plastic skiff—scuffed from too many crash landings, the front decal half peeled.
I kneel beside it.
Pick it up.
