Third person povThe silence in the kitchen after the briefing was heavy, the kind of quiet that follows a physical blow. Naomi remained seated on the high-backed stool, her hands folded in her laps. Her shoulders were squared and her spine a perfect vertical line, but Jace could see the tremor in her fingers. Jace watched her for a long minute. Then he got up. “Get your coat,” he said. His voice was low, breaking the stillness without shattering it.Naomi looked up, blinking. "What? Why?" “The house is a fortress,” Jace interrupted, reaching for his keys. “And right now, it feels like a cage.” He nodded once. Then, without ceremony, he said, “Let’s get you out of here.”She blinked. “Out of where?”“The mansion,” Jace replied. “All of it. Walls, cameras, people pretending not to watch you. We’re done for the night.”Naomi hesitated. “Where would we go?”“My place,” he said. “Neutral ground.She searched his face, measuring intent. She found none of the deflection she’d learned to
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