"Yes," Kade says.
The room's geometry shifts. Not obvious, these are operators and subtlety is reflex. But Asher's tablet angle changes. Damian's focus narrows. Jax stops bouncing his leg entirely.
She's not observing the briefing anymore.
She's the subject.
Angelina sets her pen down. "What do you know about delivery method? How is the toxin administered?"
Vanessa flips to another screen. "We're still analyzing, but preliminary forensics suggest ingestion, possibly through prepared food or beverage. Nothing definitive yet."
"Time between exposure and symptom onset?"
"Variable. It seems to be anywhere from six hours to thirty-six, depending on dosage and victim metabolism."
Angelina writes again. "Surveillance capabilities? How does the killer confirm target routines before approach?"
"That's still unknown," Vanessa admits. "Could be physical surveillance, digital monitoring, social engineering. We don't have enough data points yet."
"Recommended protocols?"
Kade leans forward slightly. "Restricted movement. Controlled environments. Vetted personnel only. No outside food or beverage without cleared sourcing."
Angelina nods. She hasn't looked at me again since Sacramento went on the map.
"Coverage gaps," I say.
Kade's eyes shift to mine.
"I'm on principal during court hours and transit." My voice sounds like every other assignment I've briefed. Measured. Professional. "The residence and school runs create exposure windows. Particularly the child."
I don't say Chesca's name.
It is nothing like every other assignment I've ever given.
Kade holds my look. Two seconds. Reads everything underneath.
"Xander." Kade doesn't turn. "School coverage and residence backup. Coordinate with Cole on the judge's schedule."
Xander straightens in his chair. "Copy."
"We'll adjust as intel develops." Kade turns away from me. "Vanessa, I want updated victim profiles and timeline analysis within two hours. Frost, coordinate with federal contacts on Li's autopsy. Push for an expedited tox screen. Everyone else, standard operational security until we have a clearer picture."
Chairs push back. People stand and are transitioning from briefing to movement.
Angelina stands.
I don't stand yet. I watch her move toward the door.
She passes my chair.
Close enough that her scent cuts through the conference room air, mandarin and rose. Close enough that if I shifted my hand six inches, I'd brush her hip.
I don't.
She keeps walking. Out the door. Into the hallway. Gone.
Two threats.