Page 62 of Crown of the Mist

"She'll run," Jace warns, but he doesn't sound convinced.

"She's already running," I point out, my analytical mind racing ahead even as that strange feeling of déjà vu persists. "At least this way she'll know what she's running from."

Rhett finally looks up from the daisy, his green eyes burning with something that makes my breath catch. "Or what she's running to."

The mist surges around us, and for a heartbeat, I see... something. Colors that shouldn't exist, power that feels as natural as breathing. Then it's gone, leaving only the certainty that we'restanding on the edge of something vast and inevitable.

"We find her first," Gray says, already moving toward his truck. "Then we deal with Phil."

"And her father?" Wes asks, falling into step beside him.

Gray's jaw tightens. "One battle at a time."

But as we follow him out of the cemetery, that feeling of recognition lingers. Like we've fought this battle before, in another time, another place. Like we've always been meant to find our way back to her.

The daisy in Rhett's hand pulses once more, bright enough to cast shadows, before fading to a steady glow. None of us mention it. None of us have to.

Some things don't need words to be understood.

Some bonds don't need explanation to be felt.

39. Jace

The key ring feels heavy in my pocket as I pace the sidewalk outside Bree's building. All those keys, given to us "for emergencies." Each one a sign of trust that we've somehow broken.

Gray's words echo in my head from our hasty planning session:"No confrontation. No pushing. Just make sure she's safe."

Easy for him to say. He's not the one watching her slip past with her head down, shoulders hunched, looking right through me like I'm not even here. At least we'd managed to time the shift changes with her work schedule. Small mercies.

Three days of this. Of waiting. Watching. Taking turns standing guard while trying to look like we're not standing guard. My usual charm feels useless here - there's nothing funny about the way she flinches when she sees us, nothinglighthearted about the shadows under her eyes.

Movement catches my attention - Mrs. Chen from 2B, giving me that suspicious look again as she waters her window plants. I flash my most winning smile, the one that usually gets me out of trouble.

"Beautiful morning for gardening," I call up, ignoring how my voice carries a bit too much forced cheer.

She mutters something that sounds distinctly unimpressed before disappearing back inside. Can't blame her. I probably look suspicious as hell, pacing the same stretch of sidewalk for hours.

"Real smooth."

I turn to find Theo approaching, coffee in hand. My relief must show because he smirks slightly as he passes me one of the cups.

"You're early," I say, though I'm grateful for both the caffeine and the company.

"Couldn't sleep." He leans against the wall, his sharp eyes scanning the street with practiced ease. "Any movement?"

"Light's been on since four." I try to keep my tone casual, like I haven't memorized every flicker of her window. "She's getting ready for her shift."

Theo nods, taking a slow sip of his coffee. Neitherof us mentions how we've all got her schedule memorized now. How we've arranged our lives around making sure someone's always here, always watching.

The mist drifts lazily around our feet, thicker than usual this morning. It's been doing that more lately - gathering around the building like it's trying to shield her. Or maybe trying to tell us something we're too dense to understand.

"You seen Phil?" Theo asks quietly.

"Not since yesterday." My fingers curl into a fist at the memory. "Rhett's warning must have stuck."

"Or he's just getting smarter about hiding."

Before I can respond, the front door opens. Bree steps out, already in her scrubs, her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun. She freezes when she sees us both, something flashing across her face too quick to read.