Evie stopped coming upstairs after missions.

The first night, Kane assumed she was busy at the garage.

By the third, even Dominic noticed.

The safehouse kitchen had gone strangely quiet without her music bouncing off the walls or her arguing with appliances like they personally offended her family.

Rain pressed softly against the windows while Kane stood beside the coffee machine watching Cassian flip through a mission file at the counter.

“You guys gonna keep doing this?” Kane asked finally.

Cassian turned one page.

“Doing what.”

“The thing where both of you act normal badly.”

Cassian kept reading.

Kane sighed into his coffee.

“Fantastic communication skills all around.”

The kitchen lights buzzed faintly overhead.

Cassian reached for his mug without looking up.

“Where is she.”

“Garage.”

No reaction crossed his face, though the page in his hand stayed unmoved a second too long before he turned it.

“She’s been there most nights,” Kane added carefully. “Probably rebuilding something.”

Cassian nodded once and closed the file.

Conversation over.

Kane watched him leave the kitchen carrying coffee and tactical gloves while rainwater slid slowly down the glass behind him.

The whole building had started adjusting itself around the silence.

Nobody liked it.

The dockyard operation went sideways almost immediately.

Gunfire cracked across the shipping yard while rain hammered steel containers hard enough to drown half the radio chatter.

Dominic dropped behind a forklift and reloaded fast.

“Left side!”

Cassian was already moving through the rain before the warning finished.

One syndicate runner hit the pavement near the loading ramp.

A second man tried reaching cover between stacked containers.

Cassian caught him halfway there.

The rifle stock connected once against the side of the man’s jaw. Bone cracked loud enough for Dominic to hear it through the storm.

The man dropped hard into standing water.

Cassian kept walking.

No pause.

No glance back.

Another target raised a weapon near the fence line.

Three shots echoed sharply beneath the container cranes overhead.

Body down.

Silence spread across the dockyard in uneven pieces afterward while rainwater carried shell casings toward the drains.

Kane lowered his pistol slowly.

“All targets cleared.”

Cassian switched magazines anyway.

Fresh click.

New round chambered.

Dominic watched him from across the loading ramp.

Usually missions ended cleaner than this.

Not cleaner physically.

Cleaner emotionally.

Tonight Cassian moved through the dockyard like somebody still waiting for the next threat to stand up again.

Rainwater rolled from his jaw onto the collar of his jacket while the rest of the team secured the area behind him.

Dominic stepped over a fallen rifle.

“You expecting company?”

Cassian looked toward the dark end of the dockyard where cargo cranes disappeared into rain and fog.

“No.”

“Then why are you still holding the gun like that?”

Cassian didn’t answer.

The garage smelled like oil, wet concrete, and overheated metal.

Evie stood beside the workbench tightening the same bolt for the third time while music played quietly near the back shelves.

She hadn’t listened to a single song.

Her phone buzzed once beside the toolbox.

Kane.

HE THREW A GUY THROUGH A FORKLIFT

A second message followed.

THIS IS GETTING SUPER UNHEALTHY

Evie locked the screen without replying.

Then reached for another wrench she didn’t need.

Footsteps sounded near the garage entrance a few minutes later.

She recognized the pace before she looked up.

Cassian stopped beside the workbench with rainwater still darkening the shoulders of his jacket.

Blood marked one sleeve near the cuff.

“You missed dinner.”

Evie kept her eyes on the engine block.

“Busy.”

“You rebuilt this yesterday.”

“That sounds judgmental.”

Rain ticked softly against the high garage windows.

Cassian looked across the tools spread over the table.

Usually Evie talked while she worked.

Complained about suppliers.

Threatened engines.

Played music loud enough to annoy the neighbors.

Tonight the garage stayed quiet except for metal clicking against metal.

“You avoiding me?”

Straight question.

No softening around it.

Evie finally looked up from the workbench.

“You really wanna have this conversation surrounded by gasoline?”

“If necessary.”

That almost sounded familiar enough to hurt.

Evie set the wrench down carefully.

“You had a dead girlfriend hidden in a filing cabinet, Cassian.”

His expression changed slightly at that.

Not much.

Just enough for her to notice after months of watching him notice everything else.

“She wasn’t hidden.”

“Right. Sorry. Organized.”

Cassian rested one hand against the edge of the workbench beside him.

Rainwater dripped slowly from the sleeve near his wrist onto the concrete floor.

“She died during an operation.”

“I know.”

“She died during mine.”

Evie folded the rag in her hands once before speaking again.

“You say that like you pulled the trigger yourself.”

Cassian looked toward the garage windows instead of answering.

Streetlights outside blurred gold through the rain.

Evie watched him do it.

The window thing again.

Always somewhere else when the conversation got close to something real.

“You do that every time,” she said quietly.

His eyes shifted back toward her.

“What.”

“The looking away thing.”

Silence settled briefly between them.

Evie rubbed grease from her thumb against the rag.

“You already decided how this ends.”

Cassian’s jaw tightened slightly.

Tiny movement.

Gone quickly.

“Elena died after getting close to me,” he said. “That’s not theory.”

The rain grew heavier outside.

Water tapped steadily against the metal roof overhead while the unfinished engine sat open between them beneath the hanging work light.

Evie looked down at the loose bolt near the mount housing.

Usually she fixed things immediately.

Tonight it stayed where it was.

“You know what’s really annoying?” she asked quietly.

Cassian waited.

“You memorized my coffee order before you even learned how to argue with me properly.”

A tired laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

“Do you know how insane that is?”

Cassian stayed silent.

Evie looked at him again.

“You don’t let yourself want anything anymore. You just collect information and call it control.”

The words landed harder than she expected.

Cassian’s hand slipped from the edge of the workbench.

Small movement.

Easy to miss.

Evie noticed anyway.

Rainwater slid slowly down the windows behind him.

Finally Cassian spoke.

“That’s safer.”

Evie nodded once to herself.

Then reached for another wrench just to keep her hands moving.

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Looks great from here.”

Neither of them spoke after that.

Eventually Evie stepped around the workbench and headed toward the office stairs without looking back.

Cassian stayed where he was long after the door upstairs closed.

The unfinished bolt still sat loose beneath the hanging light.

He reached toward the wrench beside it automatically.

Stopped halfway.

Then let his hand fall back to his side.

The interrogation room looked worse afterward.

One chair split open near the wall.

Concrete cracked beside the drain.

Blood spread slowly beneath the overhead light.

Dominic stood near the doorway watching Cassian rinse blood from his hands in the metal sink.

Red water spiraled toward the drain in thin crooked lines.

“You wanna tell me what that was?”

Cassian shut the faucet off.

No answer.

The prisoner sat unconscious against the wall with zip ties cutting deep into both wrists.

Rain tapped faintly against the basement windows somewhere above them.

Dominic looked around the room again before glancing back toward Cassian.

“You know the whole building can tell when you two fight now, right?”

Cassian pulled fresh gloves on one hand at a time.

The room stayed quiet except for the pipes humming inside the walls.