Naomi’s Pov

I didn’t sleep.

Not because of nightmares. Not because of fear.

Because my head wouldn’t shut up.

Everything felt closer now. Not louder, not dramatic. Just closer. Like the space between decisions had shrunk, and every step mattered more than before.

By morning the safehouse was already moving. Quiet voices. Boots on concrete. The smell of coffee that tasted burnt but did its job. I sat at the kitchen table with my hands wrapped around a mug I hadn’t touched.

Cassian hadn’t come out yet.

Rubio leaned against the counter, scrolling through his phone, pretending not to watch the hallway. Mara stood by the window, arms crossed, eyes...