“No.” My voice drops. “They’re guessing. They have to be.”
Kiera leans forward, eyes sharp. “Reply again.”
Cam hesitates. “Ki…”
“Trust me.” She says. I meet her gaze. Whatever’s in her eyesisn’t panic. Cam types slower this time.
You’re confusing proximity with control.
That’s a mistake.
The reply comes faster now. Too fast.
Is it?
Basements make excellent teachers.
The air drops out of the room. Lila goes still. “Okay. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Kiera doesn’t flinch. But I feel the shift in her beside me, the way her spine straightens like she’s bracing against something invisible. I lean closer, my voice low. “I’m not sure, but we don’t answer that.”
Cam nods immediately. “Agreed.”
Kiera studies the screen for a long time. Then she exhales, slowly and in control. “They wanted a reaction. They don’t get one.”
Cam closes the laptop halfway. “But we log everything,” he says. “Every keystroke. Every delay. Every word.”
Kiera looks up at me, something fierce and steady in her expression. “We keep tabs on it all. They think they’re ahead, but they’re playing our game.”
I brush my thumb once over her knuckles. “Let them.” Behind us, the laptop screen flickers one last time before Cam snaps it fully shut. Whatever just reached for us didn’t get what it wanted. Now we wait for the other shoe to drop.”
Cam pushes back from the table and rubs his face. “I need to set up new alarms for everything. If they ping again, I want it screaming.”
Kiera glances at me. “We’re out of food anyway.”
I catch the look in her eyes. A quiet ask for space without distance. “We’ll go,” I say. “Grocery run. Fifteen minutes. Twenty, max.”
Cam raises an eyebrow. “You sure that’s wise?”
“They already know we’re awake,” I reply. “Might as well act human.”
Kiera snorts softly. “Dangerous strategy.”
“Well, no one ever got anywhere playing it safe,” I say, grabbing my keys.
The truck ride is quiet at first. The kind of silence that doesn’t necessarily need to be filled. Kiera stares out the window, knees bouncingfaintly, mind clearly still moving faster than traffic. “You okay?” I ask, looking over at her quickly.
She hums. “Define okay.”
“Still breathing. Not dissociating. Thinking about groceries instead of basements.”
“Barely,” she huffs.
I pull into the parking lot and cut the engine. “We don’t have to do this.”
Kiera turns in her seat, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “No. I want to. If I sit still right now, my brain is going to turn on itself.”
A corner of my mouth lifts. “I get it. Let’s go then.” I slide out of the seat, walking around the front of the car. Kiera, surprisingly, sits in the passenger seat until I open the door this time. “Mmm,” I hum, low and rough. “Doing what you’re told this time. Good girl.”