Page 42 of Seeking Shadows

“Relief.” I give her a sideways smile. “Nice to know I’m not on your list.”

“It’s a short list. But it exists.” Her gaze lingers. “You want to make Mia happy, don’t you?”

“More than anything.”

“Then don’t run when the system fails. Fixing it takes presence, not perfection. And maybe stop being so hard on yourself. Mia could domesticate a giant troll if she wanted—she’s not exactly high-maintenance.”

That sentence hits harder than I expect. Maybe because it’s coming from her—logical, precise—but not indifferent.

“You care about her,” I say quietly.

“More than I let on,” she admits. “But that’s beside the point.” She stands, tucks the tablet under her arm. “You and I... we may never be close. But we’re part of the same experiment now. It runs smoother if there’s mutual respect.”

Before I can answer, her eyes flick to the door. Someone’s coming.

Laura half-smiles, just one corner of her mouth curving. “Time for an emotional break,” she mutters. “Want me to stay and supervise the meltdown?”

“I’d rather not,” I say.

She nods, understanding immediately.

Carter walks in like the storm he’s always been—controlled, polished, but never truly calm. His clothes are dark, his shoes clean. He looks more put together than usual, but there’s tension in his shoulders, in the way his eyes avoid mine at first. In moments like this, I see the similarity between him and Lara—he wears restraint like armor.

Maybe I was a jerk about his feelings. I can admit that. But I don’t regret protecting Mia. I’ll always choose her.

Laura glances at him, pauses beside him on her way out.

“Be honest,” she says to me. “Otherwise, it’s not worth it.”

Then she walks out with that calm, methodical elegance of someone who knows how to give space—and exactly when to reclaim it.

Carter exhales softly, stepping up to the lab bench like it’s a witness stand.

“I was hoping we could talk,” he says.

I don’t look up from the circuit.

“I figured the unanswered texts were answer enough.”

He lets out that quiet, tired breath of someone who rehearsed a speech knowing it’d still crash and burn.

“Come on, Zane... I know I was a fucking asshole. But you cutting me off like that? You’re in denial if you think we’re not friends.”

I put down the tools. Finally look at him. Hard.

“So tell me, Carter. What kind of friend tries to control my goddamn life?”

He flinches. Doesn’t even try to deflect. Just runs a hand down his face, like he could scrub the guilt off.

“I know you’re not one to dwell on the past. Our friendship was never about that. We just... showed up for each other.”

“I showed up for you,” I say, low but sharp. “You showed up hoping to win something. And when you didn’t, you got bitter.”

Silence.

“I get it. Fuck.” His voice cracks a little. The first crack in the façade. “I know you love her, okay? I get that now.”

“Good.”

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