I look at him.
“What are you worried about?”
“That you will,” he says quietly. “And you won’t care.”
That hits harder than anything else they’ve said.
Because it’s not wrong.
Because if it comes down to it—
If it comes down to choosing between playing this smart and making sure she’s safe—
I already know which way I’m going.
Wade sees it in my face before I say a word.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “That’s what I thought.”
Luke lets out a breath. “Then we do this together.”
It isn’t a suggestion, it’s a line in the sand.
Lane nods once. “No solo moves.”
Wade steps in beside them. “No blind spots.”
I look at all three of them, taking it in for what it is.
It isn’t control or doubt, it’s backup.
“Fine,” I say. “Together.”
Because they’re right.
Because this isn’t something I get to carry alone anymore.
And because whether I like it or not…
What changed in me last night doesn’t just affect me.
It affects all of us.
Which means I don’t get to pretend it didn’t happen.
I turn back toward the land, toward everything that just got a hell of a lot more complicated.
“Then let’s get ahead of it,” I say.
And this time when we move…
We move as one.
Two weeks later, by the time the sun starts dropping, the house is finished, not halfway or almost, done.
The last of the crew pulls out just as the light turns that deep gold that hits the porch just right, stretching long shadows across the boards and making everything look calmer than it is.
Cleaner, at least on the surface.
