Naomi’s Pov

The safehouse office was small, barely big enough for a desk, two chairs, and the map Cassian had taped on the wall. The blinds were half-broken, letting in slivers of light that made dust float in the air like tiny secrets.

Cassian stood with his back to the door, staring at the map.

Not studying it.

Not marking anything.

Just staring.

His hands were braced on the table, head bowed slightly, shoulders tight. He looked like a man fighting with himself.

I stepped inside quietly.

He heard me instantly.

He always did.

He straightened, but didn’t turn around. Not yet. “Close the door.”

I did.

For a moment,...