“Scout—”
Logan’s voice.
Sharp.
Grounded.
With me.
Always with me.
I make the choice.
I open the door.
Empty.
The room is empty.
Too empty.
Too clean.
Tessa is gone.
The window is open just enough to matter.
The curtain shifting slightly in the air.
And on the floor—
A phone.
Not hers.
Placed.
Deliberate.
Waiting.
My pulse doesn’t race.
It drops.
Cold.
Controlled.
Because this—
This is what he wanted.
Not separation.
Not chaos.
Precision.
