Gilbert guided Sam and Audrey toward his car. Sam was still talking — something about the fight, about Arianne’s knee, about the sound the leader made when he went down. Gilbert’s expression was somewhere between horror and the unwilling beginnings of pride.

"He made a sound like a dying animal," Sam was saying. "I’ve never heard a man make that sound before. It was incredible. She didn’t even break a sweat."

"I’m going to have to thank her," Gilbert said.

"I already did."

Audrey paused before getting into the car. She turned back to Angelika, who was still standing near the station doors, still wearing the coat. She didn’t ask for it. She looked at Angelika’s face — the dried tears, the bruised wrist, the way she was holding herself.

"Keep it," Audrey said.

Angelika’s hand went to the lapel. "I can’t — it’s yours —"

"Keep it," Audrey repeated. "You need it more than I do tonight."

Angelika didn’t argue. Her fingers curled into the fabric. She pulled the coat tighter around herself.

Gilbert held the car door. Audrey got in. He closed it gently. Then he looked across the pavement at Arianne.

"You’ve got her?"

"I’ve got her."

He nodded once. Got in the car. The taillights glowed red and then shrank into the dark.

Angelika stood alone near the station doors.

She looked smaller than she had at the club. Smaller than she’d ever looked in any society photograph. The queen bee of their high school, the woman who’d walked through hallways like she owned them, was standing on a police station curb in someone else’s coat with a torn dress and no idea where to go.

Arianne turned to Gio. "Arrange a hotel room. The Rochefort property on Calloway. A week. Until she’s ready to go home."

Gio didn’t blink. He was already typing. "I’ll handle transportation. Breakfast in the morning. Security on the floor."

"Good."

He looked at Angelika. His voice was polite and neutral. "Ms. Sinclair. The car is over here. I’ll take you to the hotel."

Angelika didn’t move. She was looking at Arianne.

"I don’t know how to —" She stopped. Swallowed. Tried again. "You didn’t have to do any of this. Any of it." Her voice cracked. "I threatened the children. At the banquet. I cornered them. I implied they might have accidents. I threatened them, Arianne."

"I know what you said."

"Then why? Why would you help me? Why would you file charges for me and get me a hotel room and —" Her voice broke entirely.

Arianne looked at her for a long moment.

"Because someone should have helped you a long time ago," she said. "And no one did."

Angelika’s mouth opened. Closed. The tears started again — silent this time, just quiet tracks through the dried mascara.

"I don’t know how to thank you," she whispered.

"You don’t have to. Go with Gio. Get some sleep. We’ll figure out the rest in the morning."

Angelika nodded. She turned toward Gio, toward the waiting car. She took three steps. Then she stopped. Looked back.

Her mouth moved. She didn’t say anything out loud. But her lips shaped the words anyway.

Thank you.

Then she got in the car. Gio closed the door. The car pulled away.

The street was quiet.

Arianne and Franz stood alone under the station’s lights. His hand was still at her back.

The three fans stepped out from the shadows.

Mari went first. Rina beside her, still cradling her arm. Tess a step behind, her broken camcorder held to her chest.

"Ms. Summers?"

Arianne turned.

Mari took a breath. "We’re sorry. For following you. For taking pictures. For waiting outside your office and outside the club. We wanted to see what kind of person you were. For Noah. For Mr. Hart." Her voice was steady, but her hands were not. "We thought you might be using him. We looked at everything and we made assumptions. And they were wrong. All of them."

"We sat in the car outside the club," Tess said. She stopped. Swallowed. "I had wrong assumptions about you. I’m sorry."

"We’re sorry," Mari said again. "All three of us."

Franz was looking between them, his brow furrowed. "Who are —"

"Your fans," Arianne said. "They’re also the ones who stepped in first. Before me. Before Sam. They saw Angelika being dragged toward the car and they got out and tried to stop it."

Franz stared at them. His expression shifted. "Gil didn’t mention that."

"Gil wasn’t there yet."

"We promise we’ll delete the pictures," Tess said. "We won’t post anything. We won’t follow either of you again. Ever."

"We saw you fight," Rina said. "We saw you protect that woman," She glanced at the empty street. "You didn’t hesitate."

"You didn’t either," Arianne said. "You got out of the car."

"We were reckless," Rina admitted. "But you didn’t have to include us in your complaint. You didn’t have to tell the officer we deserved compensation. You didn’t even know us."

"But I know what you did," Arianne said.

Franz looked at the fans. His jaw was still tight, but something in his face had shifted.

"Thank you. For what you did for Angelika. You could have ignored what was happening. Stayed in your car. You didn’t."

"We thought —" Mari hesitated. "We thought you would do the same thing. If you were there. That’s why we got out. Because we thought Noah Hart would try to help. So we should try to help."

"We wanted to be like you," Rina said quietly. "That’s why we did it."

Franz was quiet for a moment. Then: "That’s not a bad reason."

Tess let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sob. "We almost got ourselves killed."

"That part was bad," Franz admitted. "But the instinct wasn’t."

Arianne looked at Rina’s bandaged arm. At Tess’s bruise. At Mari’s trembling hands. She turned toward the station. "Mira."

Mira appeared. Silent. Waiting.

"Take them to the hospital. Full exams. Not just first aid. Rina’s arm needs imaging. Tess might have a concussion. All three of them need to be checked properly."

Mari shook her head. "That’s really not necessary. We’re fine."

"First aid isn’t the same as a full medical exam," Arianne said. She looked at Rina. "You were shoved into a car. Your arm could have a fracture they missed." She looked at Tess. "You hit your head. You could have a concussion."

"We can’t afford —" Rina started.

"I’ll cover it." Franz’s voice was gentle but absolute. "You’re my fans. You got hurt trying to help someone. I’m not going to ignore that."

The three women stared at him.

Rina’s eyes filled. Mari put a hand on her shoulder, her own eyes bright. Tess clutched her broken camcorder and nodded.

"Okay," Mari said. Her voice was thick. "We’ll go."

"Thank you," Rina managed. She looked at Arianne. "For not having us arrested. For filing charges for us. For —" She shook her head. "For being exactly what we hoped you would be."

Tess looked at Franz. "We won’t let anyone say anything bad about her. We promise. We’ll defend you. Whatever happens."

Franz nodded. "Thank you."

Mira gestured toward the waiting car. The three fans moved toward it slowly. Rina was still wiping her eyes. Tess was holding her camcorder like something precious. Mari looked back once, her hand on the car door.

"Ms. Summers?"

Arianne met her eyes.

"I’m glad it’s you," Mari said. "For him. I’m glad it’s you."

She got in the car before anyone could answer. The doors closed. The taillights glowed red and then pulled away, shrinking until they disappeared around a corner.

Arianne and Franz stood alone under the streetlight.

The station hummed behind them. The city was quiet. Somewhere in the distance, the first hints of dawn were beginning to pale the edge of the sky.

"She smiled at you," Franz said.

Arianne looked at him. "Who?"

"Angelika. When she got in the car. She looked back and she smiled."

"She doesn’t know how to thank people. She’s never had to do it before."

"She’ll learn." He paused. "You gave her a reason to learn."

Arianne didn’t answer. She was looking at the empty street where the cars had been. All of them scattered into the dark. All of them safe.

"You told her someone should have helped her a long time ago," Franz said.

"Yes."

"Who helped you? A long time ago?"

Arianne was quiet for a moment. "No one. I helped myself."

"I see." His hand found hers. His fingers interlaced with hers, warm and steady. "But you don’t have to anymore."

She looked at him. The streetlight caught the edge of his jaw, the tired lines around his eyes. He’d come for her. He’d dropped everything and come.

"Take me home," she said.

He lifted her hand. Pressed his lips to her knuckles. Gentle.

"Let’s go."

They walked to the car together. His hand stayed in hers. The streetlight watched them go.