I nod slowly.
Because for the first time in a long time?—
I believe her.
CHAPTER 37
TILDA
The first time I see it, I think it’s a replay.
Just another loop of the disaster.
Another angle of the same moment where everything went sideways and stayed there.
I’m standing in the temporary recovery wing of the compound, Jesse perched on my hip with one hand tangled in my shirt like I might disappear if he lets go, when one of the wall-sized holoscreens flickers and stabilizes.
Bron fills the frame.
Not the Bron I met two years ago.
Not the Bron who laughed too loud and lived too fast and treated consequences like optional suggestions.
This Bron.
Covered in dust.
Breathing hard.
Standing between a monster and a field full of people trying to run for their lives.
The broadcast cuts between angles.
Him pulling the creature’s attention.
Him dragging that loader rig into its path.
Him getting thrown and getting back up like gravity is just a mild inconvenience.
The commentators’ voices layer over the footage, no longer playful, no longer detached.
Reverent.
“This—this is not competition behavior,” Rick says, his tone stripped of its usual polish. “This is protective instinct. He is actively diverting the creature away from evacuation zones.”
“And folks at home,” Lenny cuts in, unusually subdued, “that’s not for points. That’s not for ratings. That’s just… that’s just someone deciding other people matter more.”
I swallow.
Jesse pats my cheek.
“Dada loud,” he says thoughtfully.
My throat tightens.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “He is.”
Around me, the room is full of people.
