The city lights beneath Cael Alexander's penthouse shimmered like scattered glass.
Rain from earlier had washed the air clean, leaving the skyline sharp and cold against the night. The streets below glowed with reflections --traffic signals flickering across wet asphalt, headlights cutting long silver lines through the dark.
Inside the bedroom, the world felt quieter.
Not peaceful... just contained.
Galathea Brooks stood near the wide window, arms folded across her chest, staring down at the city as if it might offer answers.
Behind her, Cael closed the bedroom door.
The sound was soft.
But it felt like a boundary.
The silence between them stretched.
Neither spoke immediately.
Too much had happened in the last few hours.
The Watcher.
The footage.
The realization that someone had studied every move she'd made since the Codex awakened.
Galathea exhaled slowly. "They know how I think."
"Yes," Cael said.
His voice carried no attempt at comfort, just truth.
