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I spy Natalie through the front glass doors, coordinating with her team. She looks up as I approach, and our eyes meet. There's an unspoken communication in her gaze, a mix of reassurance and resolve that steadies me the tiniest bit.
I’m ready to discuss our next moves, to strategize and strengthen our defenses. The potential danger of the situation bulled Nat and me into an even tighter orbit. I’m grateful for her presence, her strength and support. It's what’s keeping me focused and determined to see this through.
The mood outside is palpably grim. The few members of my crew that always arrive early—the kind of guys who wake up before sunrise because they actually enjoy it—offer me only subdued nods, their faces etched with worry.
As I make my way deeper into the site, snippets of hushed conversations reach my ears; talk of quitting, of the risks now seemingly outweighing the rewards of this job. Morale is understandably low, what with the severity of the situation now painted on the building in huge, glaring letters.
As I step through the front door, I catch the tail end of Natalie's conversation. She's speaking intensely with Benny, one of her renovators. His words are heated, his frustration evident, as he gestures wildly.
“This person is clearly out to hurt him, Natalie!” Benny exclaims, his voice ringing with anger and fear. “Any one of us could get hurt. It’s not just his neck on the line!”
Benny's frustration peaks at the sight of me, and he storms off before I have a chance to respond. Natalie turns to me, her expression sympathetic.
“I’m sorry about that,” she says, her voice low. “Benny’s just scared. Everyone’s on edge, really. They’re worried about their safety, about their families. It’s... it’s a lot.”
I nod, understanding full well how crushing those pressures can be. “I know,” I reply. I hate feeling helpless like this, unable to fix things for everyone. “I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me. This isn’t just about the building anymore—it’s about our people, our safety.”
Natalie reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on my arm. “We’ll get through this, Julian. Maybe you should address the crew, reassure them that we’re doing everything we can to secure the site and their jobs. They need to hear that from you.”
It's a great suggestion, and I feel a flicker of resolve pierce the fog of my despondency. I'm glad I have Natalie to think for me in times like these. “You’re right,” I say, straightening up a bit. “Let’s call a quick meeting. I need to be upfront with them, ensure they know we’re taking this seriously.”
Most of the crew has arrived by now, so I gather everyone, preparing myself to face their worries head-on. As they assemble, I search for Gabriel, but don't find him amongst the anxious crowd. He's usually the first one here, but he must be running late today. It looks like I'll be doing this part on my own.
I explain the situation to the crew as clearly as I can, outlining the measures already in place and those we plan to implement. I stress our commitment to their safety and the importance of solidarity in times like these. My normal confidence in my job is wavering, but hopefully what I've said is enough to foster a bit of hope.
As the crew disperses, a low murmur of conversation continues, the energy mostly unchanged. I deflate all over again, the world seeming to fall out from under me. I turn to Natalie, needing the stability her presence provides, but at this moment, it does nothing to comfort me.
I'm losing control, the stress reaching new heights in light of everything that's happened in the past two days. My pulse thrums too quickly through my veins, the noise of construction is too loud, and there's an ache in my head that's becoming unbearable. I have to do something. I have to protect Natalie from all of this.
“Nat, I really think you should consider taking a few days off until we sort this out,” I suggest again, more insistently this time. The dangers are escalating, and the thought of her being caught in the crossfire is excruciating.
She shakes her head, her expression resolute. “I said no last time, Julian, and I’m saying no again. It’s not just your reputation at stake here; it’s mine, too. I’m not going to run away and hide.”
My fists clench, my frustration rising, fueled by fear for her safety and something else—something deeper that I've been unable to shake since my time in the service. “I know you want to be involved, but it’s not safe, Natalie. The threats are getting more personal, more dangerous. I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you just because you’re being stubborn.”
Natalie’s eyes flash with emotion. “I’m not helpless, Julian. I appreciate your concern, but I’m not leaving the project. I need to see this through, just as much as you do.”
“Does Jack know what’s been going on here? Maybe he can talk some sense into you.” I know the words are belittling even as I say them, unfairly shoving Natalie back into her role of annoying little sister.
Natalie’s jaw clenches as she draws herself up to her full height. “I’m not sixteen anymore. This isn’t Jack’s business, and I don’t need him to worry about me too. I’m fully capable of making my own decisions.”
“You don't understand?—”
“No, Julian. I’m staying,” she cuts me off, her voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “I understand the risks, but what we're doing here is way more important. We can’t let this person bully us into running away!”
I run a hand through my hair, trying to calm myself. This has already escalated way too far, but I can't make her see reason, and it's driving me insane.
“I’m just worried about you,” I admit, softening my tone as much as possible, trying to make her understand.
“And I appreciate that, really, I do,” she replies gently, though her stance remains unyielding. “You need to trust that I know what I’m doing.”
"But you're being reckless!" I blurt out, my voice rising despite my best efforts. "This isn't about proving how tough or grown up you are. It’s about being smart!”
Natalie throws her hands in the air, her composure slipping. “So now I'm stupid, too? What do you think I did before you came along? I've been handling my life just fine on my own for ten years—without you!”
The accusation stings, a blow that hits right where it hurts, and I reply with seething sarcasm. “And just look how well that's turned out for you.”
Natalie’s eyes narrow. “What are you talking about?”
