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But solid.

Unmovable.

“It is tonight.”

Her breath catches.

Because she hears it.

Because she knows I mean it.

“This isn’t the same,” I continue, my voice lower now. “This isn’t a search. This isn’t a rescue.”

Her eyes search mine.

“What is it then?”

I hold her gaze.

“War.”

The word lands heavy between us.

Real.

Final.

And she knows it.

She shakes her head.

“No… I can handle this—I’ve been handling this—”

“I know you can,” I cut in.

And I do.

That’s not the problem.

“That’s not why I’m leaving you behind.”

Her voice softens.

Then breaks just a little.

“Then why?”

I take a breath.

Because this part?

This part matters.

“Because they’ll use you,” I say quietly.

Her eyes widen.

“They already tried,” I add. “They took your grandpa. They came after this place.”