Page 99 of Begin Again

Mo nods. “And when she does, we’ll be ready.”

Bigfoot exhales sharply through his nose, pushing off the doorframe. “It’s a solid plan,” he says, almost reluctantly. “But you’re underestimating her. She’s going to sniff out a setup the second you show up unannounced. She’ll be on edge from the start.”

Orion crosses his arms. “You got a better idea?”

Gigantor tilts his head, considering. His gaze flicks to Celeste for half a second before he says, “Give me a day. Let me see what I can dig up.”

Celeste smirks. “And here I thought you were just here to stand around and look intimidating.”

Chewbacca’s eyes gleam with an emotion I can’t quite place. “I’mverygood at multitasking.”

Orion groans. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

I scrub a hand over my face.We do not have time for this.

I just hope it works.

A tense silence lingers in the living room, the weight of our conversation pressing down like a heavy fog. No one wants to be the first to move, to acknowledge that we just set a collision course for a reality none of us are ready for. But time doesn’t wait for readiness. It never has.

“Alright,” Selene finally says, clapping her hands together like she can break the tension with sheer force. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face.

“You say that like it’s not already a disaster,” Mo says, arching a brow. “We’re just trying to control the damage at this point.”

Bennett smirks, flipping his pen between his fingers. “Besides, we’re giving her the illusion of control. It’s what she’s always done to other people. Poetic, in a way.”

Orion snorts, pushing off the wall. “Poetic or not, I’d rather not get caught in the crossfire if she decides to go nuclear.” He glances at the time on his phone and sighs. “Speaking of, I need to go pick up the rest of the team.”

Celeste’s eyes spark with amusement pointing at BFG she asks, “You mean there are more of him?”

Orion levels her with a glare sharp enough to cut steel. “No. My team is off-limits. Don’t even think about it, Silly.”

Celeste groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “I grew out of that nickname when I was a child. It’s not funny anymore.”

“Then stop acting like a child and I will stop using a child’s nickname for you.”

That earns a few chuckles, but the laughter fades fast, the reality of what we’re about to do settling back in. It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing we have to jump but not knowing how hard we’re going to hit the ground.

The conversation shifts to logistics—who’s going where what time we’re leaving—but my mind is already elsewhere. It’s stuck in the past, in the memories that don’t make sense anymore.

Aubrey. The woman who raised me. The woman who killed my parents.

The thought makes my stomach turn. I can’t be in this room anymore.

I push off the couch, muttering, “I need some air.”

No one stops me.

The cold bites at my face the second I step outside, sharp enough to ground me for half a second before the weight of everything pulls me back under. I shove my hands into my jacket pockets, trying to steady myself, but it doesn’t work. My boots crunch against the gravel as I make my way toward the truck, my thoughts a relentless storm.

Valkyrie barks behind me, a curious, almost hesitant sound. I glance over my shoulder to find her standing beside Mo, both of them watching me.

Mo tilts her head, then sighs before stepping off the porch. “C’mon,” she says, pulling her jacket tighter around her. “You’re not leaving me with those lunatics.”

I huff out a laugh—barely there, barely real—but I don’t argue when she falls into step beside me.

We stop near the truck, the silence stretching between us, heavy but not uncomfortable. The wind picks up, rustling through the trees. It smells like winter and woodsmoke, like something that should feel safe.

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