POV: Kai
the engine sound was steady — but his pulse wasn't.
he drove the second vehicle this time — Alva slept in the back seat — head tipped against glass — exhausted, finally.
but Alva wasn't what Kai was paying attention to.
it was her — in the passenger seat — left elbow on the window frame — fingers tapping slow patterns against the glass.
he watched her from the corner of his eye.
she wasn't restless.
she was thinking.
always thinking now.
"you're scanning again," he said quietly.
she didn't even turn her head, but he saw the smallest half-smirk.
"why are you always calling it that?" she murmured.
Kai shrugged once — shoulders low — relaxed.
"because you don't look around with your eyes anymore," he said. "you listen… inward."
she went silent a moment.
he didn't fill the air. he never did.
Alva would've analyzed it verbally.
Jace would've made a joke.
Arden would've given an instruction.
Kai just waited.
and she exhaled — soft — almost like it hurt.
"…Kai? do you think there are more like us out there?"
his knuckles tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
"yes."
she finally turned her head — looked directly at him.
"how can you be so sure?"
Kai didn't look away — didn't blink.
"because I found you."
she froze.
just one heartbeat.
not long — but enough.
her voice caught in her throat — barely audible:
"…Kai."
he returned his gaze to the road — a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth.
not playful.
not mocking.
real.
"don't rush to answer," he said softly. "just… don't run from it."
she swallowed — once — hard.
and outside the window — the horizon opened wide — empty highway unfolding ahead — like the world was holding its breath with them.