MasukERDENErden doesn’t look away when Riley finishes speaking.“I don’t have Nyra,” he says evenly. “Aksel does.”The words settle between them, solid and familiar. A truth he hasn’t questioned because questioning it would mean opening a door he’s kept shut for survival.Riley’s brows knit together. She doesn’t nod. She doesn’t relax. Instead, she tilts her head slightly, studying him the way she does when she thinks someone is lying to her or to themselves.“I don’t believe that,” she says.The bluntness lands harder than accusation ever could.Erden exhales through his nose. “You don’t have to believe it. It’s true.”“When was the last time you actually saw Nyra?” Riley asks.The question is quiet. Careful. Surgical.Erden opens his mouth to answer but nothing comes out.The silence stretches.His mind moves instinctively at first, rifling through memories with practiced ease. Nyra in the courtyard, sunlight in her hair. Nyra laughing at something Aksel said, her hand flicking dismissi
ERDENErden gives his name at the front desk without slowing, doesn’t bother with pleasantries, doesn’t soften his voice. By the time the doors open, his jaw is already locked.The guard recognizes him, and there’s a flicker of something, and maybe it's fear, respect, caution, I'm not certain before his protocol kicks in. The guard opens the door and leads me into the room. Cade is seated at a metal table bolted to the floor. Immediately I can see that he looks smaller.It's not physically, though he’s lost weight, that much is obvious. His cheeks are hollowed, his clothes hanging loose on his frame, the institutional gray swallowing what little presence he once had. It’s his posture that does it, the way his shoulders slope forward as though the world has finally grown too heavy to hold up. His hands are cuffed, resting limply on the table. His hair is longer than I remember. It's also unkempt and falling into his eyes. He's broken, I think, with a surprising lack of satisfaction.
ERDENTrent lingered by the door longer than he needed to.He’d already packed up his tablet and jacket, already checked his phone twice like there was somewhere else he was supposed to be, but he didn’t leave right away. He leaned one shoulder against the frame and looked at me the way he did when he wanted to say something but hadn’t decided if it was worth the argument.“I’m heading out,” he said finally. “I’ll follow up on Christian’s end and see who’s been touching that shipment. We’ll catch up later.”I nodded, eyes still on the box on my desk. “Don’t wait too long to get back to me.”“I won’t.” He hesitated again. “You good?”I looked up at him. Trent wasn’t soft, but he paid attention. He noticed patterns the same way I did. The difference was he sometimes believed in everything he wanted to, despite the evidence in front of him. “I will be later, just not today.”Not after seeing that chain, and certainly not after being informed my father might have another trap he was set
ERDENI left Lyssandra’s house without saying goodbye. No, it wasn't because I was angry, even though anger would have been easier to justify, but because I could feel the lie sitting between us like a third presence. Lyssandra might think she had me deceived, but she hadn’t denied it outright. She had just redirected my attention and my question, and she thought I wouldn't notice? I chuckled under my breath as I got into my car. She was going to meet Nyra.She might not do it today, or tomorrow but eventually, she would met her sister, but it wouldn't be her sister at all. I knew her well enough to recognize that particular resolve. The calm she wore when she’d already made a decision and was simply waiting for the moment she could act on it without having to answer to anyone. Including me.That realization followed me down the drive and into the car, settling heavy in my chest as I pulled away. I didn’t speed, nor did I slam the door. I drove like someone who needed the time to
LYSSANDRA “I didn’t know what she wanted,” I say. “And I didn’t want to cause panic without proof.”“Without proof,” he echoes, glancing pointedly at the chain.“I didn’t have this then.”He straightens slowly, hands dropping to his sides.“You let her move in your orbit for weeks without saying a word to me.”“She wasn’t in my orbit,” I push back. “She called. She left messages. That’s all.”“Did you answer.”I hold his gaze. “No.”That part, at least, is true.His eyes narrow. “Did you meet her.”“No.”Also true. Just not the whole truth. The tension between us sharpens, not because he knows I’m lying, but because he knows I’m capable of it.“You’re telling me this now,” he says, “because you think this proves something.”“I’m telling you because I want you to know I’m not hiding this,” I say. “I want you to believe me.”“That’s not the same thing.”“I know.”He turns his attention back to the chain, finally lifting it from the box. The metal clinks softly, an innocuous sound for
LYSSANDRA He stares at me for a long moment, then looks away. “I don’t have the luxury of avoiding him,” he says. “Not if Meredith’s on the line.”I soften despite myself. “Neither do I. But walking into his orbit again…”“...is dangerous,” he finishes. “I know.”“Do you?” I ask. “Or do you just think you can handle it better this time?”He exhales through his nose. “You think I want this?”“I think you think it’s inevitable.”“That’s not the same thing.”“It is when you stop fighting it.”His eyes flick back to mine, sharp now. “I am fighting. This is me fighting.”I open my mouth, then close it. Because arguing semantics won’t change the truth sitting between us.“What does the meeting look like?” I ask instead.“Neutral ground,” he says. “No witnesses I don’t control. Short.”“And you expect him to just talk?”“I expect him to enjoy it.” That makes my stomach twist.“When?” I ask.“Soon. I’m waiting for confirmation.”I rub my forehead. “You’re not bringing me into this, are you?







