Vance didn’t waste a second. His fingers moved quickly across the screen, tapping with practiced precision.

The faint glow of the phone lit his face as he worked, his expression sharpening with focus. He didn’t need instructions, he already understood exactly what Magnus wanted.

Within moments, he was done. He turned the screen toward Magnus. "Will this do?" he asked.

Magnus stepped closer, his gaze drifting over the words. He read in silence, his eyes moving line by line.

"...I never meant to hurt you... but I need space... don’t come looking for me..."

Then, almost imperceptibly, the corner of his lips lifted. A quiet approval.

He gave a small nod. "Send them."

Vance didn’t hesitate. His thumb tapped the screen twice. One message after the other. Sent.

"It’s done, sir," he said, slipping the phone back into his pocket. Then his brows drew together slightly. "Sir, if you’ve decided to separate them," he continued, "what happens next?"

Magnus didn’t answer immediately. He stood still, his gaze fixed ahead, unfocused, like he was looking through the walls rather than at them. The silence stretched for a moment before he finally spoke.

"I chose Estelle because I thought she was obedient," he said slowly. "Someone who followed rules all her life would be easy to control, right?" A faint scoff followed, more to himself than anyone else. "I was wrong."

He shifted his stance, his jaw tightening slightly. "But her defiance," he continued, his voice lowering, "that will be useful."

Vance tilted his head, watching him. "Useful how?"

Magnus’s eyes darkened. "In punishing the one person she hates most right now."

A brief pause followed. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

"Her mother?" Vance asked, his brows knitting.

Magnus nodded once. "Exactly." He exhaled slowly, like the thought pleased him. "People like her," he said quietly, "don’t break. They redirect."

His gaze darkened. "All we have to do is choose where."

Vance’s lips stretched into a wide, almost eager smile. "That will be interesting," he said, a note of amusement creeping into his voice. "A war between mother and daughter." He gave a low chuckle. "I’d pay to watch how that unfolds."

Magnus didn’t smile this time, but there was satisfaction in the stillness of his expression. "First," he said, "we make sure she hates Roman enough."

His gaze shifted slightly, more focused now. "Once that’s done, she’ll help me make sure he stays exactly where I want him."

A beat passed.

"She’s far more useful than I gave her credit for," he added. "All that matters now is getting her back on her feet."

Vance nodded slowly, already piecing it together. "Then we just need to make sure she sees the message," he said.

Magnus gave a small, approving nod. "Exactly."

—

Inside the room, the air felt heavier.

Noah’s brows were drawn tight as he looked at Estelle, trying to make sense of the urgency in her voice, the fear sitting just beneath it.

"Hey, calm down," he said gently, placing his hands over hers to steady them. "You need to relax."

But even as he said it, he knew something was off. This wasn’t normal. Not even close.

Estelle shook her head, her grip tightening around his arm, her breath uneven. "I can’t," she said, her voice low, strained. "I need to get out of here. Please."

The plea lingered in the air, fragile and desperate.

Noah lifted his hands slightly, his voice low and steady. "Listen to me. They’re right outside that door. If you panic, they’ll hear you, and I don’t think that will end well for you."

He held her gaze, firm but not unkind. "You don’t know me," he said quietly. "But you do know them." He paused for a beat. "I will help you. But I need to examine you first."

Estelle looked at him for a moment, swallowing, forcing her breathing to slow, even as her pulse thudded painfully in her ears. Then she gave a small nod.

Noah crouched beside the bed, opening his briefcase. The faint metallic click of his tools sounded too loud in the quiet room. "I read there’s some sensation here," he said, tapping lightly at a spot along her leg.

Estelle inhaled sharply. "It’s stronger now," she whispered. "Please, just help me walk again. I can’t stay like this. I can’t stay here." Her voice cracked on the last word.

Noah didn’t respond immediately. He picked up the reflex hammer and tapped the underside of her left foot.

Estelle jerked. "I felt that!" Her eyes widened, a flicker of something bright cutting through the fear. "There’s— there’s a twitch."

A small smile touched Noah’s lips. "That’s good," he said quietly.

He worked methodically after that, checking muscle response, pressing along her thighs, supporting her back as he assessed her range.

His touch was careful, professional, but there was a tension in him now, a growing awareness he couldn’t quite ignore. When he finished, he exhaled slowly.

Estelle searched his face. "So?" she asked, hope and dread tangled in her voice.

Noah opened his mouth to answer, but the door swung open at that moment. Both their heads snapped up.

Vance stepped in first, Magnus right behind him, their presence dragging the temperature in the room down a few degrees.

"What is going on?" Magnus asked, his voice sharp, impatient. "Will she walk again?"

Noah straightened, masking whatever he had been about to say. He glanced at Estelle, just a second, but it was enough to pass the message. Stay calm.

"She will walk again," he said, turning back to Magnus. "But I can’t give a timeline if she remains here. Her recovery would be faster in a proper facility. Being around other patients, structured therapy—"

"There will be no need for that," Magnus cut in smoothly, already shaking his head. "She has all the motivation she needs. Location is irrelevant."

His gaze shifted to Estelle, pinning her in place. "Right, Estelle?" His tone was light. His eyes weren’t.

Her throat tightened. She could feel Noah’s eyes on her, could feel the weight of the question pressing in.

She swallowed. "Yes. Right." The words scraped on the way out.

Noah’s jaw tightened, just slightly, before he forced a polite smile. "Then we’ll proceed here," he said. "We’ll make it work."

Estelle nodded quickly, almost too quickly. "I just need to walk again," she said, her fingers curling into the sheets. "Whatever it takes."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then Vance stepped forward, his expression unreadable, his voice measured. "There’s something you need to know, Estelle," he said. A pause. "About Roman."