“I think you don’t care if it does,” he says.
“That’s not even close,” I reply, my voice tightening.
“Then what is it?” he presses.
I step closer, refusing to give ground.
“It’s about finishing it,” I say. “Not backing off because it gets uncomfortable.”
His gaze drops briefly, then lifts again.
“This isn’t just uncomfortable,” he says. “This is dangerous.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” he asks, his voice lower now.
“Yes,” I say.
The tension tightens further, pulling the space between us into something sharp and fragile.
“You pull back now,” he says, “and you still walk away.”
“No,” I reply. “I don’t.”
He watches me, something shifting behind his eyes.
“You’re not going to stop,” he says.
“No.”
He exhales slowly.
“Yeah,” he says. “I figured.”
Something changes again, deeper this time, heavier.
I feel it before I react.
So I step back.
I force distance where it didn’t exist a second ago, breaking the line between us before it turns into something else.
“We move next shift,” I say, steady again. “We follow the routes he was tracking.”
Hrask watches me, his gaze lingering.
“Yeah,” he says. “We do.”
I turn, starting back down the corridor.
“Jolie,” he calls.
I stop, but I don’t turn fully.
“What?” I ask.
“You keep getting that close,” he says, his voice lower now, edged with something I can’t ignore, “and one of these times you’re not going to pull back.”
