The clinic room was dim, its only light coming from a cracked window where dawn crept in slowly, painting the walls pale gold.
Nathalie sat upright in the hospital bed, a fresh bandage on her temple, bruises darkening along her cheekbone. Her hands trembled as she peeled the wrapper from a protein bar. It was the first thing she'd eaten in a day.
Across the room, Daniel leaned against the wall, arms folded.
“You didn't sleep," she said without looking at him.
“I don't usually, after jobs like that."
She glanced at him. “That wasn't a job. That was a rescue."
He shrugged. “Semantics."
“I'm serious, Daniel." Her voice cracked. “If you hadn't come—"
“But I did."
Their eyes met.
She inhaled slowly, voice lower now. “You tracked those men because of… what? Mafia business?"
“I was alr
