Eve decided it was time to go home. New York had given her pieces — more than she'd expected, and fewer than she needed — but the real fight waited back where her squad, her company, and the quiet remains of her ordinary life were all still holding steady without her. She packed her small bag in the hotel room early the next morning, the black mask staying on the entire time, soft fabric fitted snug over everything but her eyes. She checked herself once in the mirror before leaving. Eyes sharp. Everything else hidden. The mask had become her armor after the park, after his hands, after the particular way he'd made her feel exposed without ever once seeing her face. It kept Valentino from reading her. It kept everyone from reading her, which, this morning, felt like exactly the point.The car ride to the airport drew a few stares — a woman in a tailored black suit and a full face mask tended to do that — but no one asked questions, and security passed her through with barely a second l
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