CHAPTER 282: WE STAY CLOSE

By the time I stepped back into the elevator, my coat felt heavier than before. The ride up wasn’t long, but the silence made it feel like hours. Every faint hum from the cables, every shift in weight as the lift ascended—it all pressed down on me like static that wouldn’t clear.

There were four people waiting upstairs. Four people I cared about. And suddenly, the simple act of stepping through the door didn’t feel simple at all.

Because someone had gotten close. Not physically. Not yet. But close enough to slip past firewalls, past cameras, past my damn instincts until it was too late.

Close enough to watch.

The elevator dinged softly as it reached the top floor.

Penthouse level.

I stepped out.

The hallway was dim. The lights had been set to evening mode—soft and golden, like everything was fine. Like everything was normal.

But I knew better.

I stopped outside the front door, hand hovering over the handle. For a moment, I just listened. The faint hum of ventilation. The distant clink of a glass. A voice, maybe Camille’s, humming something under her breath.

Still normal.

Still here.

I keyed in the lock.

The door hissed open.

Inside, warmth spilled out like it hadn’t even noticed the cold I carried back in. Sienna sat cross-legged on the couch, a blanket around her shoulders and a book open in her lap. Camille stood in the kitchen in one of her oversized shirts, absently toasting something while scrolling through her tablet. Alexis had fallen asleep on the armchair, a pen still in her hand and papers balanced on her knees. Evelyn was by the window, half-shadowed, arms folded as she looked out over the city like she was guarding it herself.

They all turned when I entered.

Sienna blinked first. "Reynard?"

I forced a smile that didn’t quite reach.

"Hey."

"You disappeared," Camille said, setting the tablet down. "You didn’t say anything."

Alexis stirred awake at the sound of my voice, blinking sleep from her eyes. "Wha—wait, how long was I out?"

Evelyn didn’t say anything. She just watched.

I stepped in and shut the door behind me.

"Sorry," I said. "I needed to check something."

Camille arched an eyebrow. "Dramatic coat exit, mystery phone message, elevator sprint, and now you come back like nothing happened?"

"It wasn’t nothing," I admitted. "But I didn’t want to panic anyone until I knew for sure."

"Panic us about what?" Sienna asked quietly.

I took a deep breath.

Then I told them.

Everything.

I explained the case—how a man named Jacob met me on my way to the precinct, how we’d thought his daughter was in danger. I described the attic ladder, the polaroids, the sense that someone had been inside his home without ever being caught. I explained how we’d searched, how nothing made sense—until the message came.

I showed them the photo.

The grainy shot. The timestamp. The unmistakable hallway just outside our door.

All of them went silent.

Sienna leaned in, her lips parting slightly. "This was from tonight?"

I nodded. "Roughly an hour ago."

Camille’s eyes scanned the image with more focus than usual. "This is... from inside the building?"

"From one of the internal security cameras," I said. "Or at least, it should’ve been."

"What do you mean ’should’ve’?" Alexis asked, sitting upright now, tension growing behind her eyes.

"The camera never logged the footage," I said. "The image shouldn’t exist. But it does. Which means someone pulled it—or duplicated it—before it ever got stored."

"But how?" Evelyn finally asked. Her voice was calm, but not distant. Not anymore.

"I don’t know yet," I said. "But Anthony and I suspect a blacklisted job is involved. Something related to data infiltration. The kind of job with skills that bypass what should be humanly possible."

Alexis stared at the photo, then at me. "So someone’s watching us. Right now."

"Not right now," I said. "But recently. Close enough."

Camille crossed her arms. "So what, you think someone’s spying on this place remotely?"

I shook my head. "I don’t think it’s that simple. No hacking signatures. No breach logs. No infiltration tools were used. It’s like the image bypassed every safeguard."

Sienna pulled her blanket tighter. "That’s terrifying."

"I know."

We stood in silence for a moment.

Then Alexis asked the question I’d been waiting for.

"Why? Why us? What would someone gain by spying on us?"

That was the part I couldn’t answer.

I’d spent most of my life chasing threats, taking down people who wanted power, leverage, advantage. But this? This felt different. More clinical. Less about victory—more about watching.

"Maybe we’re just the warm-up," I said quietly. "Or maybe someone already knows what I’m capable of and wants to know more."

Camille gave me a long look. "You think this has to do with your title?"

"Could be. Or it could be about Evelyn. About NovaCore. About literally anything."

Evelyn looked over after she put on her blindfold.

"You don’t think it’s just some sick voyeur?" Sienna asked.

"It’s a possibility," I said. "But this also feels professional. Precise. Every move is calculated. The kind of thing someone does when they want to know exactly how far they can push."

"And if they’re watching now..." Camille murmured, "they’re already ahead."

I nodded slowly.

"But they made a mistake."

Alexis tilted her head. "What kind?"

"They left a footprint," I said. "Maybe not on the logs. But this image came from somewhere. And that somewhere had to be touched. Even with the right job, even with the right skills—there’s always a trace."

Sienna looked uneasy. "So what do we do?"

"We don’t change routines. Not yet. Don’t give them a reason to go deeper. Meanwhile, Anthony and I will start building a list. Anyone who could have this kind of job. Anyone who survived the NovaCore purge with access to shadow data."

"What about protections?" Camille asked. "If they got this far..."

I looked at her.

"From now on, we work in teams. No one is alone. Alexis, I want you to modify our internal alert protocols. Make them loop independently of the main network. Camille, make some decoys ready and clothes that disguise our biometric signatures. Evelyn, you’re the least likely target—and with your Evaluator job, you’ll see through most things at a glance."

"What about me?" Sienna asked.

I hesitated.

Then I sat down beside her on the couch.

"You’ll stay close to me," I said. "Always."

Her eyes flicked to mine. "And if that’s what they want?"

"Then I’ll make them regret it."

She didn’t respond right away. But she didn’t look away either.

A long silence followed.

Eventually, Camille went back to the kitchen, Alexis to her papers, and Evelyn resumed her post at the window. The apartment returned to its quiet rhythm, but the weight hadn’t lifted.

The photo sat on the coffee table between us like a wound left open.

I sat back, trying to think—trying to plan the next step.

Either way, tomorrow I would head back to the precinct and hopefully Grant as some form of lead coming from the footprint and fingerprints.

If not then Anthony and I should be able to deduce him via our list of potential individuals.

Regardless of all possibilities...

Whoever they are. Whatever they’re after. I don’t care. I’m catching this twisted bastard