He looked straight into the cameras. Like he could see through the screen. Like he was looking directly at me.
“And to the individual who believes he is helping this city with a bow and a mask. You are not. You are contaminating scenes,obstructing investigations, and escalating violence. Whoever you are, you cannot be allowed to operate in London. Turn yourself in. If you have information, bring it to us like any other citizen. We will find you if you do not.”
Questions flew from reporters. Akintola lifted a hand. Calm. Controlled.
“We are pursuing active leads. We will not comment on ballistics, recovered weapons, or the nature of the projectiles. I will say this. There are groups styling themselves as reformists who are planning public disorder and worse. A vigilante on the streets gives them exactly what they want. A symbol to rally against. A reason to claim the crown cannot keep its own house in order.”
Another question. “Detective, are these reformists linked to the attack last month in Wapping?”
“We are examining connections between incidents. If you have video from the docks between midnight and two, contact the tip line. If you are tempted to play hero, do not.”
He stepped away. The feed returned to the studio, the anchor pivoting to a security expert who was already speculating about trajectory arcs and handmade arrowheads.
Élodie muted the television and left the image frozen on Akintola's face. She didn't look at me right away. Just stared at the screen like she could will it to soften.
“You are a headline if you are caught.”
I looked past her to the frozen still of Akintola. The set of his jaw. The patience of a man who outwaits storms. “He said they will find me.”
“He might.” She picked up the remote. Set it down. Picked it up again. Nervous habit from childhood. “Your loop on the east corridor glitched for two minutes last night. I fixed it. If anyone else notices, there will be questions.”
Relief flooded through me. “Thank you.”
“Don't thank me.” She finally turned to face me. “Give me less to fix.”
“The docks were necessary.”
“I know.” She moved to the bed, sat on the edge like she'd done a thousand times before. Close enough to touch but not touching. “But you can't keep running in the open like this. The reformists are naming dates now. Not whispers. Not maybe. Actual dates for demonstrations. If there's a riot at Parliament or a bombing at the bridge, Akintola will lock down half the city. He'll shake every corridor in this palace until he finds the draft under your door.”
“They'll have to get past Apollo first.”
She almost smiled. Then it faded. “Your father will not survive losing you.”
“He won't survive losing the city.”
For a moment we said nothing. Rain freckled the window. On the television, the expert traced an arc on a graphic of the warehouse roof, a cartoon arrow falling neatly through a vector.
Élodie reached for my wrist, turned it to look at the bruise shadowing the bone. Purple and yellow. Fresh. Her thumb hovered over it, didn't touch. Professional assessment. “Left hook?”
“Twice.”
She let my hand go. “I hate that I know that. That I can read your injuries like a language.”
“Me too.”
She stood, moved to my dresser. Started pulling out clothes for the day without being asked. Dark trousers. White shirt. The jacket I preferred because the cut didn't restrict movement. She knew my wardrobe better than I did. Knew which pieces I could fight in if necessary.
“You need allies who can do what you cannot,” she said, laying the clothes out with precise care. “Or who will do it legally.”
“Legality didn't save her.”
The words hung between us. Heavy. Final.
Élodie's hands stilled on the jacket. “No. It didn't.” She turned to look at me. “But it might save you. If you'd let it. If you'd trust the system instead of trying to be the system.”
“The system is broken.”
“Then fix it from inside. You're the crown prince. You have more power than any vigilante ever will.” She moved back to the bed. Sat closer this time. Close enough that our knees almost touched. “Use your position. Use your voice. Stop trying to save the world alone.”
