Noah POV

I hear her before I see her.

Chloe’s voice carries the way it always did — clear and climbing, shaped for crowds, the kind of voice that knows exactly how much space it’s filling. I push through the shelter door and the noise hits me: too many bodies packed too close, the restless, charged air of people who have stopped whatever they were doing because something worth stopping for is happening outside.

I push through them.

She’s standing just beyond ...