We have direction.
We move fast.
Take the guy with us.
Not leaving him behind.
He’s still useful.
The ride back is different.
Tighter.
Focused.
She’s quiet beside me.
Processing.
Holding it together.
Barely.
“You good?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
A beat.
“You’re doing good,” I tell her.
Because she is.
Even if she doesn’t feel it.
We pull up to the shop.
Everything looks the same.
But it’s not.
Not anymore.
Because now—
This place might be holding the truth.
We clear it fast.
No threats.
No movement.
Good.
“For now,” I mutter.
I nod toward the back.
