Page 47 of Override

“You know her sleep schedule.”

“She paces when anxious.”

I hate this conversation.

Wheels laughs before nudging my shoulder once with his fist. “Man, all of us are emotionally screwed up.”

“That feels medically accurate.”

“Before the military we were already disasters. Then the government gave us trauma and weapons.”

“Excellent long-term strategy.”

“Honestly? Probably not.”

Despite myself, I laugh softly.

Wheels grins immediately like he won something. “There you are,” he says.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ve been disappearing into your own head lately.”

The comment lands harder than expected. Because he’s right.

Everything lately feels split between: real life and the Gallagher surveillance feed.

Like half my brain permanently lives inside that estate now.

And the worst part?

I’m not entirely sure I want it back.

Wheels glances toward the laptop again where Maeve finally emerges from the bathroom with red-rimmed eyes and a carefully blank expression.

Something cold twists beneath my ribs.

I sit forward automatically.

Wheels watches the movement, saying nothing. “There it is again.”

I don’t look away from the screen. “What?”

“That look.”

“What look?”

“The one where you care.”

Silence settles heavily between us.

Onscreen, Maeve disappears down the hallway toward the master suite.

And for the first time since this whole thing started—I realize Wheels might actually be right.

Chapter 11

Maeve