The question hung in the warm, coffee-scented air between them, heavier than the rain beating methodically against the glass.
Jayden didn't blink. For three agonizing seconds, the only sound was the distant, rhythmic hum of the espresso machine behind the counter and the low hiss of the rainy night outside. The stark, direct nature of Han's probe struck like a sharp instrument, but Jayden's face didn't flinch. Instead, the jaw muscles along his rigid neck clamped down until the bone threatened to snap.
"Don't," Jayden said. His voice was no longer the frantic, ragged whisper of a man unraveling; it had flattened into a low, dangerous growl. "Don't do that, Han."
