6
957 Words
By the time the sun started bleeding into the Louisiana sky, Salem hadn’t moved.
The system had.
Layers pulled apart. Patterns mapped. Access points flagged.
But the answer?
Still just out of reach.
Salem leaned back slightly, rubbing a hand over her eyes before forcing herself upright again. Coffee sat cold beside her. Food half-finished.
Focus hadn’t wavered.
Not once.
A low rumble of engines rolled through the compound.
Salem didn’t look up.
Miles did.
“That’ll be her,” he said, already pushing off the desk.
River glanced toward the entrance, then back to Salem. “You should take a break.”
“No.”
“You’ve been working all night.”
“And I’m still working,” she replied.
Miles smirked. “Yeah, that tracks.”
Before either of them could say anything else—
The front door slammed open.
Fast.
Loud.
Chaotic.
“SALEM—!”
Rhea’s voice hit the room before she did.
Then she was there.
Hair slightly windblown, sunglasses pushed up on her head, a duffel slung over one shoulder—and enough energy to power the entire compound.
She stopped dead in the doorway.
Looked around.
Locked onto Salem.
And grinned like she’d just walked into the best kind of trouble.
“Well,” Rhea said slowly, dragging the word out as her eyes flicked past Salem—landing directly on River and Miles. “You didn’t tell me the job came with… perks.”
Salem didn’t even blink.
Rhea dropped her bag, already walking in like she owned the place. “Okay, but seriously—one of them is the hot one and the other is the really hot one, and I need clarification—”
“Rhea.”
“—because I’m trying to be professional here, but that one—” she pointed, very obviously, at Miles “—smiled at me outside and I almost forgot my own name—”
“Rhea.”
“—and the other one?” she continued, jerking her chin toward River. “Silent, broody, looks like he’d ruin your life in a calm, controlled way? Yeah. I see the appeal—”
“Rhea.”
That time, Salem didn’t raise her voice.
She didn’t need to.
Rhea stopped mid-sentence.
Slowly turned.
Met Salem’s flat, unimpressed stare.
“…What?” she asked.
Salem looked her up and down once.
Took in the too-bright eyes.
The too-fast speech.
The barely-contained energy.
“You’ve had too many energy drinks,” Salem said.
Rhea scoffed. “I’ve had a reasonable amount—”
“You’re vibrating.”
“I am not—”
“You’re vibrating,” Miles cut in, clearly entertained.
Rhea pointed at him. “Don’t encourage her.”
Salem didn’t move from her chair. Didn’t soften. Didn’t smile.
“Take your laptop,” she said calmly, “go outside, and work until you calm down.”
Rhea blinked. “Excuse me?”
Salem’s gaze didn’t waver.
“Or I’m throat punching you.”
Silence.
Miles choked on a laugh.
River turned his head slightly, but Salem caught the faintest hint of amusement in his expression.
Rhea stared at her.
Then huffed.
“You’re rude,” she muttered, grabbing her bag. “And for the record, I am perfectly capable of functioning—”
“Outside,” Salem repeated.
Rhea narrowed her eyes.
“…Fine.”
She slung her bag back over her shoulder, muttering under her breath as she headed for the door.
“This is workplace hostility. I’m documenting it.”
“Do that,” Salem said.
The door shut behind her.
⸻
A beat.
Then—
Miles laughed.
Full, unrestrained.
“Oh, I like her,” he said. “She’s fun.”
“She’s loud,” Salem corrected.
“She’s honest,” River added quietly.
Salem shot him a look.
“She’s on a stimulant crash waiting to happen,” she said.
Miles leaned against the desk again, still grinning. “And you just threatened her with violence.”
“I offered a solution.”
“That’s not a solution.”
“It is if she listens.”
River’s gaze lingered on Salem.
“You didn’t send her away because she was loud.”
Salem didn’t look at him. “She was a distraction.”
“That’s not the only reason.”
Her fingers resumed moving across the keyboard.
Sharp.
Focused.
Controlled.
“It’s the only one that matters.”
Miles watched her for a second—longer than before.
“You don’t like losing control,” he said.
Salem’s hands stilled.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Then—
They moved again.
“No,” she said evenly. “I don’t like inefficiency.”
Miles smirked. “Same thing.”
She didn’t answer.
⸻
The door cracked open again a few minutes later.
Rhea’s head popped in.
“I can still hear you,” she said.
Salem didn’t look up. “Good. Stay outside.”
Rhea rolled her eyes—but disappeared again.
This time, she stayed gone.
⸻
The room settled back into quiet.
But not the same quiet as before.
Now there were four of them.
Four moving parts.
Four minds circling the same problem.
Salem pulled up the shared data again, layering Rhea’s files over the pack’s system.
“Rhea will cross-reference faster on external signals,” she said. “If this extends beyond your network, she’ll catch it.”
River nodded. “And inside?”
Salem’s gaze sharpened.
“That’s on me.”
Miles tilted his head. “You trust her that much?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
No doubt.
River noticed.
“Then we trust her too,” he said.
Salem glanced at him.
Something flickered there.
Brief.
Gone.
- Writer
