“Doesn’t have to be tied to this,” he says. “Just… something to burn it off.”
I shake my head once. “If I start, I won’t stop. And I need to be clear when I go back in there with her.”
“Fair.” Beau studies me for a second, then nods. “We’ve got time. We’ll plan. And then we’ll execute.”
I nod once.
“They’re going to pay for what they did,” Beau says. His voice drops. “All of them.”
The water finally begins to simmer. I tear open a packet, stir slowly, keep my hands busy.
Footsteps echo again, lighter this time. Travis appears in the doorway. His shoulders sag like sleep has been optional for too long.
“Is she still not eating?” he asks quietly.
“No.”
Travis nods once, like he expects that.
“Beau’s ramen is actually really good,” he says. “She might be able to keep that down.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m making her.”
“Good.”
He steps closer, hesitating. “You want me to sit with her for a bit?”
“No.” The answer comes out too fast.
Travis stops, raises one hand. “Okay. Well I’m here if y’all need anything… Not that you would—I mean—.”
“It’s okay,” I rub the back of my neck. “I know.”
What I don't say, what I can't admit even in my own head, is everything tearing through me at once. I want to reverse time. I want her nowhere near that manor. I want our baby back. I want to hear her laugh again. I want my Brooke back, not the fragile version of herself she wears now like protection.
None of it can be undone.
And I have no idea how we are supposed to move forward from this without losing each other in the process.
I push off the counter and drag a hand down my face, forcing myself to breathe.
“I need to be in there with her.”
Travis looks at me for a long second. There is sympathy there, but something firmer sits beneath it.
“Then go,” he nods. “She needs you. I’ll handle everything else.”
He turns to leave, and he speaks again.
“I’m digging through every corner of the Collective database. I’ll find Elliot. Everyone tied to this.”
His voice stays steady, but the anger underneath it is unmistakable.
I nod once and go to stir the ramen.
Krueger is on my heels immediately, his nails clicking softly against the floor. Luna follows too, quieter, sticking close to my leg like she always does when something feels wrong. They both watch me with that same fixed attention they have not taken off her since we brought her back. They know. Animals always know.
It has been hard on them. They are used to her hands on their heads, her voice, the way she pulls them close without thinking. Now she barely reacts at all. No petting. No cuddling. No acknowledgment that they are there, waiting.
