Page 137 of Thorne
A ghost of a smile tugs at my mouth. I walk down the steps to meet them, my boots crunching on the frost-dusted grass.
The trial is coming due in three days. Cassie and the legal team at Guardian HRS have been working the angles, building a case based on Julianna's cooperation and the ultimate sacrifice she made in that server room.
Ghost and the rest of Cerberus have already signed the affidavits. Talia flew in last week to review strategy. Eliza hasbeen coordinating witnesses. Sarah—back on active status now, the NRO paperwork finally cleared—has testified twice.
We're not just fighting for her freedom; we're fighting for her life. But even with the weight of the federal court hanging over us, the air here feels lighter.
As I reach them, Lily lunges at my knees. I scoop her up, settling her on my hip, then I reach for Julianna. I don't grab. I don't control. I just tuck her into my side, my arm sliding around her waist, anchoring her to me.
"How's the side?" My voice drops, a quiet murmur near her ear.
"Functional." She leans her head against my shoulder, a quiet smile in her tone as she uses the word like an inside joke—a callback to the woman who refused to stay in bed, the woman who did compressions on my chest while her own lungs were failing. "But I think I'm ready for a horizontal afternoon."
"I can manage that."
I press a kiss to her temple, the scent of her—soap and cool air—filling my head. It's strange to think there was a time when I aimed a weapon at her. Stranger still to remember the night I sat outside her door and listened to her count mortar lines through a locked wall.
Now she sleeps against me. Now I know the exact weight of her hand in mine.
"Are we doing the Gaussian distribution today? Julianna promised." Lily looks between us, her eyes bright with that terrifying, beautiful intelligence.
"Later, Lily-bug." I kiss the top of her head. "Right now, we're just doing the one-plus-one-plus-one rule."
"What's that?"
Julianna looks at me, her hand finding mine and squeezing. "It means we're a set." Her eyes reflect the autumn sky, bright with sudden emotion. "A closed loop. No remainders."
"Exactly." I squeeze her hand.
We turn back toward the house, walking together. Lily chattering about her rock collection. Julianna's hand warm in mine. The creek sounds fading behind us as we climb.
Inside, the cabin smells like coffee and woodsmoke. I built the fire before dawn—old habit. Perimeter check at 0500. Fire laid by 0530. Coffee ready by the time the other two woke.
Julianna noticed the routine on the third day. She didn't say anything. She just started leaving a mug beside the coffeepot with the grounds already measured. A small efficiency. An acknowledgment.
The kind of detail that doesn't belong in any tactical briefing.
Lily runs to the couch and starts arranging her rocks in order of "primeness"—her word, not mine. Julianna follows more slowly, her hand pressing briefly to the doorframe as she passes. I know the gesture. I've watched her do it a hundred times. She used to count mortar lines. Now she just touches. Makes sure the structure is solid.
"Hey." I catch her elbow before she gets too far.
She turns. Her eyes are clear. Steady. The dark circles that lived under them for weeks are finally fading.
"What?"
I don't answer right away. Instead, I let my hand slide down her arm, finding her fingers. Intertwining. Her pulse jumps—I feel it against my palm. Six weeks, and my touch still does that to her.
"Tonight." I press my thumb to the inside of her wrist. "After she's down."
A smile curves her mouth. Small. Private. The kind she saves for when no one else is watching.
"After she's down."
She squeezes my hand once, then lets go. Crosses to the couch. Sits down next to Lily, who immediately crawls into her lap with a rock in each fist.
I stand in the doorway and watch them.
Old habit. Can't help it. Doorframes are where I live. But the assessment has changed. I used to scan for threats. Exit points. Structural weakness.
