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My phone vibrates in my pocket, and when I fish it out, I have a few texts from Cy asking for an update. I ignore him for now and call Maria, who answers on the first ring despite the hour.

“Lorenzo?”

“I’m moving in with Piper,” I say without preamble. No space between the words for questions or concerns. “I need things brought over. And I need to replace some of her stuff.”

The silence stretches, and I know I’ve surprised her. But instead of letting it show, she asks, “How soon?”

“Now.”

She yawns loudly, and I pretend not to hear her cursing me for calling her like this with no notice.

“Oh, one more thing,” I grin. “Dr. Voss putuson bedrest for two weeks, so I need you to cancel my schedule. No face-to-face meetings with anyone but you and Cy.”

She huffs. “Dr. Voss putyouon bedrest?”

“She put Piper on bedrest, which means I’m on bedrest. So, yes,” I clarify.

“I see.” There’s a faint tap of keys as she makes notes. “The usual selection of clothes, toiletries—”

“And food,” I interrupt. “And something comfortable for Piper to wear.”

While Maria takes notes, I explain the outfit Piper wore at Static, so we can replace it. Then I move on to listing off some options that she likes to wear when she’s at home. Yoga pants, oversized shirts and stuff.

“Nothing restrictive,” I finish.

“And what food would you like?” she asks, staying on task.

I remove my phone from my ear and look at the email from Voss explaining Piper’s do’s and don’ts. “Coconut water, herbal teas, and light food.” I go into more detail as I mention a few of the meal ideas Voss gave me.

“You know, I can arrange a private nurse,” she offers. “Someone discreet, with security clearance.”

I feel my body go rigid at the suggestion, a visceral no that surprises even me. “No nurse. No security team inside. I’ll handle her care myself.”

“Got it.” There’s a short pause before Maria speaks again. “And when you say you’re moving in, do you—”

“I mean that I’m moving in,” I state. “I’ll keep my place so you don’t need to fill out a change of address card.”

Of course she’s surprised, and I don’t blame her. In the years she’s worked for me, I’ve never moved into a woman’s space. I’ve never adjusted my schedule to accommodate someone else.

Before ending the call, Maria repeats what I’ve asked for, and assures me I’ll receive everything shortly. Being a Russo opens just about any door, so I know she’ll get it done.

With that out of the way, I double-check the bag doesn’t hold anything Piper will need. That’s when I find her phone. It’s dead, the black screen a void like the hours she’s just lost.

I plug it into the charger beside her bed, watch it vibrate to life with a spasm of notifications. Lena’s name appears five, seven, twelve times. Each message is more desperate than the last. A digital panic that came too late to prevent anything. The slew of where are you, I’m worried, and are you okays are useless.

Lena’s guilt won’t undo shit. She failed. She let my toy get poisoned and pawed at in a room full of strangers. Piper could’ve died—and Lena was too busy. The thought hits like a hammer. This is what happens when I allow others to protect what’s mine.

With a scoff, I silence the phone without reading the rest. What good is guilt now? What use are Lena’s concerns when the damage is done? The phone keeps lighting up, persistent as a wound that won’t close. I place it screen-down on the nightstand and turn away.

Behind me, Piper stirs—a small noise, a shift of her leg against the sheets—but doesn’t wake. I check her breathing again. It’s still steady. But I don’t like how deep she’s sleeping, or that she’s sleeping this long. I haven’t had time to feed her, which can’t be good.

Something dark flickers in my chest. It’s been hours. She should have shown some sign of waking by now. Not willing to leave anything to chance, I call Voss.

“She hasn’t moved,” I say when she answers, my voice a growl of accusation. I proceed to explain how long my toy’s been asleep, expecting it to worry the doctor like it’s doing to me.

“That’s to be expected,” Voss replies, her tone steady despite being woken.

“How long?” I demand.