The living room hummed with quiet preparation.

Devon was checking comms with the two ex-FBI agents, speaking in low, professional tones. Julius paced near the window, phone to his ear, murmuring last-minute legal contingencies. The duffel bags were zipped. The SUV was idling downstairs, its lights glowing like twin moons beneath the night sky.

Katherine stood by the hallway mirror, adjusting her jacket—one of Devon’s spares, a little big on her, but she didn’t care. Her face looked drawn ...