Page 80 of Operation: Defiance

“Please.” Relief stings sharply behind my eyes.

“I’ll talk while I set it up,” he says, already standing. “You don’t need to answer.”

I track his steps as he moves down the hall, his voice carrying easily back to me. Low. Even. Ordinary. Pointless commentary about menus and volume sliders and how he never remembers where the good playlists are.

Then a melody drifts in. Gentle notes that don’t fill the room so much as interrupt the silence so it can’t smother me.

Something in my body that hasn’t eased since they took me finally lets go.

Asher returns to the chair and sits.

“Tell me if it needs to change,” he says. “Or stop.”

I start to roll onto my side, but tense as fear cuts deep. They never let me move on my own. Never let me protect myself from anything. Kept me on my back where my chest felt too open and I couldn’t curl or shift or breathe without pain.

I’m not back there.

I risk moving again, drawing my arms inward, guarding my shoulder, tucking my knees just enough to feel contained. The blanket’s weight anchors me. My toes are warm inside the socks.

“You don’t have to stay awake,” I murmur, already drifting. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“All right,” he says. “Eyes closed. Ears open.”

A faint huff of amusement escapes me before sleep can steal it away.

Fabric shifts. A quiet exhale. The soft, repeating notes of something slow and comforting from the other room.

For the first time since this started, nothing is being taken from me.