Ethan
Sarah's practiced expression cracked for a heartbeat before she recovered, smoothing the glint of surprise from her features. "Fiancée?" she echoed, her voice a soft, teasing flutter. "Well, congratulations, Ethan."
She turned to Elena with a measured smile. "And to you, of course."
Elena nodded slowly. "Thank you."
The words were polite, but the air between the two women stiffened like drawn wire. Ethan felt it instantly — the shift next to him, the subtle retreat in Elena's posture. He glanced at Rowan, who had taken up his usual post by the fireplace. Arms folded, expression unreadable, but the tension in his jaw gave him away.
Sarah didn't linger on Elena. She walked with purpose and poise to the chair next to Ethan and sank into it like she owned the room. One leg crossed over the other, she adjusted her blouse as if brushing off dust that wasn't there.
"You know," she began lightly, "my father was a bit... shocked when he heard. But then again, he always said you and I were a perfect match." She smiled, eyes fixed on Ethan. "Duty. Leadership. That sort of thing."
Ethan leaned back, arms draped across the chair like a throne. His tone was cool, edged. "Your father values practicality. It's no surprise he saw the merit."
"Practicality." Sarah let the word sit for a second, then turned her gaze — soft, but sharp — to Elena. "And now... spontaneity."
Elena didn't flinch. "Sometimes the unexpected feels more real than anything planned."
Sarah tilted her head, amused. "How poetic."
"Are you here on behalf of your father?" Rowan cut in, stepping forward. "Or is this personal?"
Sarah's smile held, but her fingers tapped once against the armrest. "Does it matter?" she replied airily. "When I heard Ethan was injured, I thought — as an old friend — I should check in."
Ethan didn't return her smile. "I'm fine, Sarah."
There was a pause. Then, Sarah sighed with theatrical grace. "I'm sure you are."
The room thickened with quiet. The only sound was the faint hum of the fridge and the distant clink of glassware from the kitchen. Ethan shifted slightly in his seat, and Elena, though she hadn't moved, was suddenly very still. Her fingers tapped once, twice, against the fabric of the chair.
"You two were close?" Elena asked, not looking directly at Sarah.
"Oh yes," Sarah said warmly. "We went to university together. I was always the plus-one when he needed a polished date for events. Fundraisers. Dinners." She turned her head, faux-thoughtful. "Those were good times."
Ethan cut in, dry. "They were convenient times."
Sarah laughed, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Well, you never complained."
"No," he said, "I never had to."
A knock broke the silence like a stone through glass.
Everyone looked to the door. Elena straightened in her seat, while Rowan moved instantly, glancing back at Ethan for a nod. He opened the door cautiously.
A young man stood there — early thirties, dapper, well-groomed. At first glance, he was unremarkable. But something about him unsettled Elena before she could name it. Her breath hitched.
Sarah's face lit up. "Oh, perfect timing." She turned toward the room. "Everyone, this is Daniel. My assistant."
"Assistant?" Rowan asked, not bothering to hide the edge in his voice.
"Yes," Sarah replied sweetly. "He helps me manage some of my father's more... intricate affairs."
Daniel entered smoothly, offering a small nod to each person. "Pleasure," he said, voice low, smooth as polished glass.
Elena's hands tightened around the armrest. She knew that face. She had seen it in surveillance photos, reports tagged 'Dominion-Flagged: Monitor Movement.' Daniel was no assistant. He was an operative.
Sarah's voice was a melody. "I hope it's alright that I brought him. We were in the area, and I thought—"
"—to drop in unannounced?" Elena said, standing now, her tone still polite but sharp enough to cut.
Daniel glanced at her, then looked away, deferential.
Sarah's smile didn't waver. "We're all friends here, aren't we?"
Ethan looked between Elena and Daniel, then slowly at Sarah. "What is this really about?"
"Oh, Ethan." She leaned toward him slightly. "You always see ghosts in every shadow."
"And you always show up when something's brewing," Rowan muttered.
Sarah rose slowly, brushing imaginary lint from her sleeve. "If I'm not welcome—"
"No one said that," Ethan said evenly, though his eyes were now locked on Daniel. "But I'd like to know why you really came."
Daniel opened his mouth, then closed it. "We're just passing through," he said simply.
"Funny," Elena said quietly, stepping forward now. "Because you've passed through a lot of interesting places lately."
Daniel turned to her fully, smile gone. "Have we met?"
"Not formally." Elena's expression was ice. "But I've seen you."
The silence that followed was louder than any argument. Rowan straightened beside her. Ethan was no longer lounging.
Sarah raised a brow. "Well. This suddenly got interesting."
"It always was," Elena said, never looking away from Daniel.
Elena didn't blink.
"I've seen you," she repeated, her voice calm, but her tone edged like a blade just beginning to draw blood. "In fact, I saw you the day of the attack. You were at a café on the boardwalk, two blocks from the plaza. Fifteen minutes before the first sirens."
Daniel's expression didn't change, but something in his posture stilled—just for a second.
"I think you're mistaken," he said smoothly, giving her a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I wasn't anywhere near the boardwalk that day."
Elena tilted her head, studying him. "No? Funny. You stood out. Worn jacket, blue jeans faded with age. You held your cup with your right hand but stirred with your left. I don't forget details."
Daniel chuckled softly, almost pityingly. "You've got the wrong man."
"Elena." Ethan spoke up, his voice steady, a note of warning threading through it. "Maybe it was someone else. You've been through a lot lately. It's possible you're misremembering."
Her gaze flicked to him, quick and sharp. "I don't confuse faces, Ethan."
"I'm just saying—" he leaned forward slightly, palms open, trying to soften the weight in the room "—you've been hyper-aware since the incident. It makes sense your mind might try to connect things."
She looked at him a moment longer, then said quietly, "Don't explain my instincts to me."
A beat of silence.
Sarah's voice floated in, light and amused. "This has turned into quite the little mystery, hasn't it?"
Rowan, still by the fireplace, finally spoke. "If it's a mystery, Sarah, you walked in with the biggest clue."
Daniel smiled again, cool and pleasant. "You all seem very...tense."
"And you seem very good at being forgettable," Elena said. "Which makes me wonder why I remembered you at all."
He said nothing this time, but his eyes didn't leave hers.
Ethan glanced between them all. The shift was undeniable now. Elena wasn't just being territorial. She was sounding an alarm, and the more she spoke, the more Ethan felt a pressure building behind his ribs—a slow recognition that something was out of sync.
"Alright," Ethan said finally, looking at Sarah. "Why did you come, Sarah? Really."
Sarah smiled, unbothered. "Like I said. To check in. And maybe...to remind you that some connections run deeper than they seem."
She rose to her feet again, slow and graceful. "But I can see I've overstayed." Her eyes flicked to Elena, to Rowan, and finally back to Ethan. "We'll be going."
Daniel offered a polite nod. "Thank you for the...conversation."
Elena watched him until the door clicked shut behind them.
Only then did she speak again, low and certain.
"He lied."
Ethan exhaled, hands steepled in front of his mouth. "I know."
Rowan shook his head. "And we just let them walk out."
"No," Elena said quietly, eyes still on the door. "We let them think we did."