Allison
"Fine," I say, while my fingers sit on my knee instead of digging into the seat. I have never been outside Blue Ridge, and I must admit I’m a little bit nervous to be going to the Royal pack of all places for my first venture out.
"Water in the side pocket," he says, and leaves it there. He doesn’t pass a bottle back. He knows better than to put sothing in my hand right now.
’They’re learning,’ Ruby says, pleased. ’Hold your center.’
We cross the river, the engine hum and tire noise make a clean base for thinking. But I’m not really sure if I should be deep diving into thoughts right about now? I may decide on sothing that’ll get all of us in trouble in the wrong room.
"Traffic rging," Ezra says, eyes on the cam, voice low. He’s not talking to , he’s talking to Ethan’s mirror and his own nerves. "White van, two back, no tags, sits like a contractor run. Not ours."
"Logged," Ethan says. He doesn’t brake or speed up. He lets the rge happen and watches the gap.
C-NET pings as a drone loop over ridge, false; deer. Fallon logs it without comntary and Daniel adds; "Mail filter blocked two orchards. Sinkhole steady." I picture a lock screen soone didn’t expect and decide it’s a good day for boring consequences.
Halfway to Silver Mist, I check my shared location. Elijah shares back, Ezra does too. SUV-3 is a dot on a simple line and I don’t need to look at it. I look anyway. Old habits don’t die just because you decide they should.
"Do you want noise?" Elijah asks. "Playlist or silence?"
"Silence and the road," I say. "We’ll talk later." I think I’ll say all the things I should say but am too afraid to say if we talk here where we are basically alone.
"Copy," he says, and actually honors it. He goes back to repeating the parts of A-NET that keep oriented; "Next turn in six minutes. Pace minus three for the gate approach. Crown Risk confirms the slot." No editorial. No mix.
"Hold for a second," Ezra says. He pinches the tablet to zoom the rear cam. "Cream ribbon on a mailbox, mile marker twenty-two. Wipe request?" He’s asking Daniel without asking to watch the rear cam while we’re moving.
C-NET: "Audit copies the fra; patrol will wipe on return." Daniel’s tone is standard, calm and even because we’ve done it enough now to make it procedure instead of panic.
"Docunted," Ezra says. His mouth goes flat for a second like he wants to be in two places. He lets it go and we pick up a single car between us and the equipnt van, a blue sedan with a dented bumper and a driver who reads the road like it owes him space. Ethan gives the man room. He doesn’t teach on the highway.
"What will they ask first?" I ask. Not because I need a script but because I want to hear what plan exists.
"Readiness," Ethan says, even. "Your module and our policy, then the knot packet and lastly the ward stability." He glances in the mirror. "You say Allison Grey, Visitor/Ops, training support if soone asks your na in a room I don’t control. If anyone uses Luna like a dare, you don’t answer. I, or my brothers, will."
"I don’t want a hallway scene," I say.
"You won’t get one," he promises.
Elijah adds, "If soone tries it anyway, I’ll say milk’s out and yank you into a fake ergency." He doesn’t sound gleeful, he sounds ready. And a little gleeful. I swallow the giggle that wants to co out.
"And if I say inventory check, you call," I say, trying to stay serious. "Then you get out without asking to explain why."
"Copy," he says. His hand tightens on his knee for one second and then relaxes. He doesn’t reach back. He’s learning what to do with his hands when they don’t get to be busy.
We cross into Silver Mist’s territory at 8:52am. Ethan calls it on A-NET. A subtle hum runs through the car that isn’t the engine. The Council’s dot moves into the Crown’s approach lane and Councilor Hart texts that they are approaching now.
"Rember your answer if asked for a demo," Ezra says without turning. "Keep it to a clean set. Knees safe, fra before force and no flourish."
"Copy," I say.
"If they ask for a clinic note?" Elijah asks, smiling over his shoulder because we both know I know the answer.
"Non-chemical, consent first, field amplitude declared, direction chosen by patient or lead dic," I recite. "Outco logged."
Ethan’s mouth moves like he almost smiles. "Good," he says. "Speak that fast if they try to turn it into a story."
We line up at the outer gate. Silver Mist’s guard approaches with the asured respect of a pack that can run its own day. He scans badges, reads plates, checks faces, and gestures to us forward. No cara crews, no loose bodies. Their no recording rule is on the posted sign where it belongs.
"We’re going to park in front of the packhouse, and let one of the others take the park to the lot." Ethan says, looking in the mirror. I nod.
As we approach the big house, two figures wait outside. They are tall and regal, and the woman is absolutely breathtaking.
"Stay here." Ethan commands, kills the engine and steps out with his brothers. Well, welco indeed to Silver Mist to .
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