Stop looking where you’re not supposed to look.
I huff a quiet breath through my nose, the sound rough and low.
Yeah.
That’s not happening.
—
By the time I make it back to the border, the heat has settled in again, thick and dry, dragging at the back of my throat like it’s trying to strip something out of me. The fence hums steady, unchanged, but everything else feels sharper now, more defined.
She’s already there.
Of course she is.
Jolie stands at her post, posture locked, eyes scanning the line, but I can see the difference now. The tension sits deeper, more controlled, like it’s been packed down into something harder instead of burning out.
She’s not letting it go.
Good.
Because neither am I.
I step up to the fence without waiting, closing the distance in a way that’s more direct than usual.
“They shut me down,” I say.
Her gaze snaps to mine immediately.
“That was fast,” she replies.
“Didn’t even pretend otherwise,” I add.
She studies me, something sharp flickering behind her eyes.
“Same on our side,” she says. “Command’s already locked the report. Accidental. Case closed.”
“Of course it is.”
Silence stretches for a second, heavy with everything neither of us is willing to accept.
“You’re still here,” she says.
“So are you.”
“That wasn’t the point.”
“It kind of was.”
She tenses, her attention locking onto me in a way that feels more focused than anything we’ve had before.
“They’re burying it,” she says.
“Yeah,” I reply. “They are.”
“And you’re just… what?” she asks, her tone sharpening. “Going to follow orders?”
I let out a low breath, something closer to a laugh than I intend.
