Aria’s POV
Neither of us moved for a long moment after Romanov set the phone down.
“Tomorrow,” I said finally, testing the word like it might rearrange itself into something less final.
“That’s not a threat. That’s a schedule.”
“Which means they’ve already committed resources to it,” Romanov said, standing abruptly. All the warmth from moments ago folded itself back into cold calculation. “People don’t announce an attack a day in advance unless they’re confident enough in the outcome not to worry about giving us time to prepare.”
“Or they want us to spend that time being afraid instead of useful,” I said. “Fear is its own kind of weapon. You taught me that yourself, back in the beginning.”
His expression shifted, reassessment moving across his features like he was recalculating how
