Marcus is completely absorbed in the news broadcast, his attention fixed on the TV like it's showing the winning lottery numbers instead of a serial killer's capture. He doesn't even notice Wren sliding down the wall, doesn't see her struggling to breathe.
But I do.
My body finally catches up with my brain, and I'm around the counter before I can second-guess myself. The sensation of breaking rules—customers aren't supposed to be back here—sends a jolt of discomfort through me, but I push it aside. Some things matter more than rules.
I crouch in front of Wren, careful not to touch her without permission. Her eyes are unfocused, pupils dilated with fear. Her breathing is shallow and rapid—hyperventilating. She's going to pass out if this continues.
"Wren," I say softly, keeping my voice low enough that only she can hear me. "I need you to focus on me. Can you do that?"
Her gaze darts to mine, then away, then back again. Recognition flickers there, but it's drowning in panic.
I take a slow, measured breath, then raise my hands where she can see them. I begin to sign, my fingers forming words I haven't used in years.
“You're safe. I'm here. Breathe with me.”
Her eyes widen, surprise momentarily cutting through the terror. She wasn't expecting me to sign. Good. Surprise can interrupt panic cycles.
“Five things you can see,”I sign, keeping my movements slow and clear. “Tell me five things.”
She blinks rapidly, her breathing still too fast, but her gaze begins to focus. Her hands shake as she signs back:
“Coffee machine. Floor. Your glasses. Light. Cup.”
“Good,”I sign. “Four things you can touch.”
Her fingers brush the floor beside her."Cold. Smooth."She touches her apron."Fabric."Her hand moves to her throat."Skin."
"Three things you can hear,"I continue, watching her breathing gradually slow.
"TV. Music. Your breathing."
I offer a small smile at that last one."Two things you can smell."
"Coffee."She pauses, then adds,"Sandalwood."
My cologne. I didn't think it was that noticeable.
"One thing you can taste."
"Fear,"she signs, and something in my chest tightens.
I nod, acknowledging her honesty."Keep breathing. Slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth."
I demonstrate, taking an exaggerated breath and letting it out. She follows my lead, her chest rising and falling in a more controlled rhythm. The trembling in her hands begins to subside.
"You know sign language,"she signs, her movements still shaky but clearer now.
"My cousin is deaf,"I sign back."I learned growing up."
Something shifts in her expression—relief, maybe. Or recognition. For a moment, I consider telling her everything. That I understood her yesterday. That I know she's Silence.That I'm WrathSpawn. That we've fought side by side in digital battlefields for months.
But the vulnerability in her eyes stops me. She's already dealing with enough. Adding another revelation might overwhelm her again.
Instead, I sign,"Do you need a minute? I can cover for you."
She nods, gratitude flooding her face.
"Stay here,"I sign."I'll handle Marcus."