Page 36 of Redline Communion

“It didn’t?”

“No.” His mouth twists. “Families like ours rarely invent anything. They inherit, rename, and insist the new label makes it holy.”

“Ours?”

He looks back at me.

“Useful word, isn’t it? It can mean belonging or blame depending on who says it.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“I am.”

The admission is so clean it knocks some of the irritation out of me.

“At least you know.”

“I usually do.”

“What did they tell you I was?”

“A complication.”

“Cassian.”

Nico’s eyebrow lifts. “You said it, not me.”

“What did Rafe say?”

“Very little.”

“That sounds like him.”

“He did make it clear I was not to upset you.”

“Also sounds like him.”

“Do you need that?”

“What?”

“Someone else deciding what you can survive.”

The question hits hard enough that I sit back.

“That’s not fair.”

“No,” he says. “It isn’t.”

There’s no apology in it and no smugness either.

Just the answer.

“You’re very good at this.”

“At upsetting people?”

“At making it feel like you’re the only person in the room who has figured out what’s actually happening.”