Page 32 of Requiem
I steady my breath. “I know that, too.”
Heather shifts beside me, her voice softer. “Emma, please be careful. This is about you, too.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s not.”
It used to be.It used to be about how I felt. I was always someone who prioritized being careful, and staying composed. But that version of me doesn’t exist right now.
“This is about him surviving this,” I say, turning to Micah. “And if I have to break myself to make that happen, then I will. We cried about it. Now, it’s time to change it. I’d do anything for him, and you know that.”
Micah closes his eyes briefly, as if that physically pains him to hear.
Rafe doesn’t react the same way. He just studies me, then nods. “Alright,” he says. “Then we do it right. Lead the way, therapist.”
I exhale, my shoulders loosening.
Micah shifts. “And what if he doesn’t respond to this?”
Rafe looks back at the screen. Jude has rolled onto his back now, his arm thrown over his eyes, chest rising unevenly. “Then we keep going,” he says. “Until he does. Eventually, he will.”
Micah pushes off the wall, coming to stand beside us. “I heard Nico get pretty pissed off early this morning. What was that about?”
My attention sharpens at that, my gaze flicking to Rafe.
He exhales slowly, like even explaining it is a strain. “Upstairs, they’re trying to break into whatever files Adriana had. But it’s not simple. Nothing about it is. Everything’s layered. Redundant locks on top of more locks. Adela can’t even access theactualcontent yet—just blurry thumbnails. Enough to know what’s there…” His voice dips slightly. “Not enough to access or erase it. Thankfully, though, these files seem to have backstage access to Alexei’s system. Nolan wanted to be sure it could connect in the event he got into any legal trouble. The moment we can break the flash drive, we can break into Alexei’s system.”
My mind reels at how complicated it all sounds, and how I know I couldn’t have doneanyof this without them.
“We need to separate them,” he continues. “Nolan had files on Jude and Alexei both. If we touch the wrong thing, it could trigger a release protocol…or wipe everything completely.”
Micah lets out a quiet curse. “So one wrong move, and it all blows up. Our leverage could be gone, or we could just destroy Jude’s life?”
“Yeah.” Rafe’s tone is flat now. “And we don’t know how close we are to that line.”
Somewhere upstairs, a faint thud echoes, followed by the sharp scrape of something hitting the floor. Nico, frustrated, running out of patience. And time. Because Alexei is adamant.
Rafe doesn’t look away from the screen. “Best case, she gets in deep enough to isolate Jude’s files and erase them…while keeping everything that implicates Alexei intact.” A faint, tired smirk touches his mouth. “We’re working on it. Specifically, my darling wife is.”
Micah nods once, accepting it, his eyes drifting back to the screen.
“So when do we want to start this?” Heather asks quietly.
Rafe’s intense gaze clashes with mine. “Now.”
***
Micah walks in first, one hand near his weapon. I follow close behind him, and Rafe and Heather stay outside.
Jude is on the bed, chained, but not struggling. That stillness is the first thing that makes me hesitate. His head is angled slightly toward us, hair falling into his eyes like he hasn’t bothered to push it back in a while. His breathing is shallow in a way that doesn’t match the calm of his body. And his face…his face is too perceptive.
Micah notices. “Hey,” he says carefully. “We’re just here to check in.”
Jude doesn’t answer right away. His eyes move to Micah first, then slowly to me. Recognition flickers briefly across his face, followed immediately by discomfort. “Emma,” he says finally.
My throat tightens. My name shouldn’t sound like this in his mouth.
“Hey,” I manage anyway, stepping slightly forward without fully realizing I’ve done it. That’s when I see the shift. His shoulders loosen. His hands ease slightly against the sheets. His breathing slows, as if in relief. Micah moves closer, but I feel something that has goosebumps breaking out over my arms. Jude’s pupils dilate, a predator locking in.
“Micah,” I say quickly.
