Page 78 of Hide From Me

“You’re a pain in my arse,” Sam bites back, but it’s half-hearted. His eyes flick to mine, and I see it: that old flicker of trust. Still fractured, but healing.

Jasmine strolls down from her private jet, checking her watch like she’s on deadline. Thankfully, she offered for me to use it after convincing Sam to let them fly commercial to America for her sister's wedding. He hated the idea, something about how it seemed dangerous, but I agree with her—it sounds fun. After all, they’re not going to America for business, and it’d be nice for them to have some time without having to act like hardened soldiers.

“Looks like Sam’s having an existential crisis.” Cordelia whispers like Sam can’t hear her as she throws an arm around me from behind, dragging me down an inch so she can properly lean into me.

“It’s not existential. It’s logistical,” Sam growls.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” Jasmine chimes as she steps off the jet, bun perfectly in place. Her eyes scan the runway before landing on the warehouse, gaze lingering for a moment before snapping to me with a weak smile.

For a moment, it almost feels normal, like we didn’t tear into each other in a security room. Like Cordelia didn’t trespass into Raylen’s life, and Jasmine didn’t help, but none of us mention it. That’s the unspoken rule now. We’re not okay, but we’re moving forward anyway.

Sam checks his watch, then gives Jasmine a subtle nod. “Let’s go. I don't want to miss your sister giving me the go-ahead to kill her new husband.”

“Sam Morona! No murders on this trip!” Jasmine yells as Sam wraps his arm around her waist, grinning.

“You’ll be alright?” Cordelia asks as she straightens my collar, voice softer now.

“I always am.”

She pulls me into a hug anyway.

“You’re not alone in this,” Cordelia murmurs. “No matter how it feels.”

Then they’re gone, loading into their vehicles like civilians. Which means I’m alone with…

I glance at Caspian.

Great.

He’s got that same tight-jawed look he’s been wearing for days, like every breath costs him. I wait for him to say something snarky, but he doesn't.

Instead, he shifts his weight and mutters, “You sure you’re ready for this?”

“Too late not to be.”

Caspian lets out a breath and rubs his hand against his chest, stopping at the buttons to tap his fingers against them, like he’s bracing himself for a confession.

“There’s more to this mission than you know,” he says slowly. “Greenport… isn’t just a checkpoint. One of the high-ranking operators there—he’s—he’s tied to you.”

My pulse stutters.

“What do you mean tied?”

Caspian hesitates. I can see the name sitting on his tongue like it’s burning him. “He’s someone you’ve wanted to find. Someone you’ve talked about… for years.”

I take a full step back, throat dry. “Don’t.”

“Moe—”

“No.” My voice cuts sharper than I expect. “Don’t say it. Not yet.”

Caspian looks stunned for half a second. Then his mouth presses into a flat line. “You really want to walk into that without knowing?”

“I need to figure it out myself.”

“That’s not—”

“I said no,” I repeat, more quietly this time. “If I find out from you and it all goes sideways, I’ll never stop resenting you for it. Youknow I won’t.”

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