Kade didn't argue again.
That scared her more than if he had.
He turned away, already issuing quiet instructions into his phone—security tightened, routes cleared, contingencies layered on contingencies. This wasn't permission. It was preparation. The kind you make when you know you can't stop someone you love from walking into fire, so you make sure they don't burn alone.
Kiera went to the bedroom and changed slowly. Comfortable clothes. No jewelry. Nothing that could be grabbed. Her hands were steady, but her chest felt too tight, like the air had thickened around her ribs.
Her sister hovered in the doorway. "You don't owe him anything," she said softly.
"I know," Kiera replied. "But he owes me the truth."
Kade appeared behind them. "We meet him on neutral ground. Public. No deviations."
Kiera nodded. "If he tries to bargain?"
"I end the conversation," Kade said flatly.
"And if he tries to apologize?" her sister asked.
Kiera paused. "Then it's too late."
