The knock isn’t loud.
Alex answers it before anyone else can react.
“Marco.”
I look up instantly.
He steps inside, dark clothes, familiar presence — all sharp edges and quiet control — and for a split second his eyes are scanning the room like they always do.
Then he sees me.
Everything in his face shifts.
“Cass,” he says softly.
I slide off Max’s lap without thinking, crossing the room. Marco doesn’t pull me into a hug — that’s never been him. Instead, his hands settle at my shoulders, steady and careful, like he’s making sure I’m really here.
“You look… better,” he says, then corrects himself. “You look like yourself.”
I smile faintly. “You look tired.”
That earns a small, breathless huff of a laugh. “Yeah.”
Alex clears his throat gently. “You came to talk.”
Marco’s eyes fli
