Page 101 of Falcon’s Forever

Frankie looks devastated. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Be less funny,” Knox tells her.

She shakes her head. “That’s impossible.”

For a few minutes the room feels almost ordinary. Sarah unpacks Emily's things. Frankie steals the hand cream. Ice Pick pretends not to know what half the items in the bag are while identifying the phone charger in under two seconds.

My phone buzzes with a security update.

Security Phone:

SECURITY UPDATE: Transition property security installation underway. Estimated completion 1800. Maggie's house under remote surveillance. No unusual activity.

Another follows.

Security Phone:

Women's house repairs expected complete tomorrow afternoon. Residents will be offered individual accommodation choices before return.

Offered. Not assigned. I smile at the word choice more than I probably should.

Sarah notices. "What?"

I show her the message. Emily holds her hand out for the phone and reads it twice. "Can I see the transition house before I decide?"

"You already asked that."

"I know. I like the answer."

By the time everyone's settled, I've agreed to leave for a few hours, not because Frankie ordered me to and not because Sarah threatened to call Vulture, though she tried both. I leave because I'm tired, because other people are here now, and because Emily doesn't need me every single second to stay safe. It still feels strange to walk out that door.

Ice Pick drives me back to the compound. We’re halfway there when I break the silence.

“You don’t have to drive me everywhere.”

“Correct,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road.

“You could’ve sent someone else.”

“Also correct.”

I turn toward him. “Why didn’t you?”

“Was coming back anyway,” he replies.

“Oh.”

He glances over at me. “What?”

“Nothing,” I say, looking out the window.

“You expected a speech about club responsibility.”

“Maybe.”

“Nope.” Ice Pick turns his attention back to the road. “I needed to come back, and you needed a ride. Efficient.”

I laugh, and mean it.