POV: Silas
He reached the corridor thirty seconds after they came through.
Damian first, then Eve, then Damon and Maya behind them, bag over her shoulder, eyes already scanning the space with the wariness of someone who'd learned not to assume safety.
Silas took all of that in with a single sweep.
Then he looked at Eve.
She looked tired. Good tired, the kind that came after surviving something rather than drowning in it. There were shadows under her eyes, delicate purple half-moons that spoke of too many hours awake and not enough rest. Her shoulders carried the tension of someone who'd been holding themselves upright through sheer will and hadn't quite remembered how to relax yet.
Her gaze found his.
He didn't move.
