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Because I’m not standing here talking about this anymore.

“Wheels up in ten,” Lucas calls from across the bay.

Good.

Something to do.

Something to move toward.

I sling my pack over my shoulder.

Ignore the pull in my ribs.

Ignore everything else.

Russ doesn’t stop me this time.

Doesn’t say anything else.

But I feel it.

That look.

That knowing.

Like he already sees where this is going.

Like he knows something I don’t.

Or won’t admit.

Doesn’t matter.

Not right now.

Right now—

There’s only one thing that matters.

I move toward the exit.

Fast.

Focused.

Locked in.

Because this isn’t about unfinished conversations.

Not about what she said.

Not about the look on her face when I walked out—

It’s not about any of that.

It’s the mission.

That’s it.