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She had turned the thing that terrified her most into a tool. God, she hoped she never had to do that again. But she’d survived.

Her stomach cramped hard enough to make her wince. She needed food in the next hour, or the nausea would circle back worse. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up carefully. The room tilted, steadied, held.

She pulled on a sweatshirt and used the bathroom, then stopped when she heard someone in the kitchen.

Her whole body went tight. A cabinet closing. A mug being set on the counter. Ryder. It had to be Ryder, and she didn’t know if she was ready to face him yet. In the lodge, there had been so much danger, she could force herself to focus on that. But now, they were back in the real world.

She had no idea what to say to the man who’d spent years hurting people but had been so gentle with her.

So she wouldn’t say anything. She had too much work anyway. She needed to get to work on decrypting the drive they’d taken. Finding the kidnappers. Awkward talks would have to wait. She walked out to tell him that.

Fallon turned around with two mugs in her hands.

“Hey. I was just about to wake you up when I heard you moving around in there.” Fallon’s voice was careful. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck and the truck came back to make sure there weren’t a few more pieces it could run over.”

Fallon set the mugs down, crossed the kitchen, and pulled her into a hug. Cassandra went stiff for a second, then let herself fold into it. She pressed her forehead against Fallon’s shoulder, closed her eyes, and just breathed.

“You scared me,” Fallon said.

“Well, believe me, I was scared myself.” In more ways than one.

Fallon pulled back but kept her hands on Cassandra’s arms. “Ryder briefed the team when you got back. Said you had a bad migraine and he used it as an exit strategy. Got you both out clean.”

Cassandra processed that. He’d kept her secret. He could’ve told Fallon about the spiraling, but he hadn’t.

“Yeah. Migraine.” It wasn’t a lie. The migraine had been real. “Once I threw up, I think the Diehls couldn’t wait to get me out of there.”

Fallon handed her a mug and nodded toward a bag on the counter. “I brought you some food. Sit down. Eat.”

She sat. The coffee was terrible, but it was hot. She pulled out the burger and fries from the bag and ate without tasting, methodically, because if she didn’t get food into her stomach in the next few minutes, the nausea was going to circle back and finish what the migraine started.

“Cass.” Fallon leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I never would’ve let you go in if I’d known you’d get stuck there.”

“You didn’t let me do anything. I volunteered.”

“I signed off on it. I put you in that house. And you ended up so sick Ryder basically had to carry you out.”

“Well, I guess you should consider turnabout fair play. And how many times did I watch you walk into exactly those kinds of situations?” Cassandra set the mug down. “Three years, Fal. Three years of sitting in my apartment running comms while you walked into rooms full of dangerous people with nothing but a cover story and a body that could break itself to do what needed to be done.”

“That’s not the same.”

“It’s exactly the same. I watched you get hurt. I listened on the line when things went wrong, helpless a lot of the time.” She held Fallon’s gaze. “It was nice to be on the inside for once. The person taking the risks and doing something.”

Fallon opened her mouth. Closed it. “Well, you certainly did that. But I know it couldn’t have been easy, Cass. None of it. The sexual submission stuff…”

“I made it through. The cover worked. We got the data. That’s all that matters.” She couldn’t think about the other with Ryder. Not now. Maybe not ever. “And I need to get on the decryption. You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long.”

Something moved across her friend’s face. She knew Fallon wanted to press, wanted details, but knew Cassandra was right. Now wasn’t the time. There were children’s lives at stake.

“Fine. Let’s get you over to the lab so you can go be brilliant,” Fallon finally said.

They walked out together. Fallon turned toward operations, then stopped when her phone beeped. She sighed.

“What?” Cassandra asked.

“It’s Ryder again. He wants to make sure you’re okay. He’s been texting.”