Tessa’s hand hovers over the pouch.
She doesn’t move.
Not right away.
And I get it.
Because whatever’s inside that thing—
It’s the reason everything happened.
The accident.
The prison.
Daniel.
All of it.
I step closer.
Not touching.
Just there.
Grounding.
“You don’t have to rush,” I say quietly.
Her eyes flick to mine.
Searching.
Then she nods.
Slow.
Steady.
And reaches in.
She pulls it out carefully.
Like it might disappear if she moves too fast.
The pouch is worn.
Soft.
Familiar to her.
I can see it in the way she holds it.
“This is it,” she whispers.
Everyone goes still.
Trigger. Beast. Blaze.