Page 65 of Requiem
“I was so used to helping other people through their own shit,” she continues, and I can’t help the small smirk that tugs at my mouth at the way she curses more now. “I never realized that Jude was my weakness. I didn’t know how to deal with his pain. His trauma. I felt too close to him, but I still wanted to do right by him, treat him like I do my patients.” She exhales softly. “I got in my head, Micah. I handled it all wrong.”
“I can see why you did what you did,” I tell her. “It’s not exactly normal, trying to navigate something like this with someone you…” I trail off, then shake my head. “With someone you love that much.”
She nods once. “Exactly. I just have to shift my focus. Heather was the one who really made me see it.” Her eyes flick back toward the hallwayagain, thoughtful now. “I can use what I know to find him in the dark. But I need to be who he loves to pull him out. I have skills that happen to be very helpful for what he endured.”
My chest constricts at that because I know she means it. There’s no doubt or hesitation left in her. “That’s a damn good way to do this,” I say quietly.
She smiles, and lets her head fall against my shoulder. And it hits me then, clear as anything. This isn’t fear or desperation anymore. This iscommitment. And I’d be an idiot to stand in the way of that. Before I can say anything else, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Once. Then again. Then a third time.
I already know who it is before I even pull my phone out. Since the motherfucker likes to communicate that way, even if we’re just downstairs. I stare at the screen for a second longer, just contemplating everything between Emma and me right now.
She lifts her head, catching the shift in my posture. “What is it?”
“Rafe,” I say, pushing myself to my feet. “He wants us upstairs.”
She stands with me, steady on her feet, and there’s a confidence in the way she carries herself now. I admire it for just a moment as she walks ahead of me. By the time we step into the living room, everyone else is already there.
Rafe is near the coffee table, one hand braced against it, his focus locked on the laptop beside him. Adela sits in front of it, fingers hovering over the keyboard like she's lost in thought. Kieran is slouched in a chair, alert despite the posture, and Nico stands near the window with his arms crossed, watching everything without saying a word. Heather and Adriana are sitting on the couch.
On opposite ends, of course. Heather is not a fan of Adri, and I don't blame her.
Rafe glances up as we walk in. “Good. Close the door.”
That tone alone tells me this isn’t small. I move further into the room, Emma stepping in beside me as the door clicks shut behind us.
Adela turns the laptop so we can all see the screen, and what’s on it immediately makes my stomach twist.
“What the hell is that?” I ask, because I have genuinely no goddamn clue what I’m looking at. It’s layers of code, folders, logs…an entire system that confuses the shit out of me.
“This is what we were able to access,” Rafe says. “One of Nolan’s remaining pathways.”
Emma tilts her head. “Access as in…?”
“As in we canseeit,” Adela answers. “But that’sallwe can do.”
I frown. “What do you mean, that’s all?”
She taps something on the screen, opening a deeper layer of files. “What we need to access is locked beyond standard encryption. It’s conditional, with everything tied to triggers.”
Rafe nods once. “That lovely dead-man framework, remember?”
Shit.
I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. Most of this shit sounds like another language.
Adela scrolls again, and this time it’s clearer. There are images, transactions, video logs, and timestamps.
Jude.
Every version of him they forced into existence, documented like evidence.
Emma doesn’t react the way I expect her to. I watch her out of the corner of my eye, waiting for her to crack, to look away, to press a hand to her chest like she usually does.
Rafe notices too, but doesn’t comment. “We don’t have the passcode required to safely alter or delete anything,” he continues. “Without it, any attempt to interfere activates the fucking release protocol. Adriana, any chance you know it?”
She shakes her head immediately. “No. He kept that separate. Always.”
Kieran mutters something under his breath.
