The suite they move me into is bright in a way that feels intentional, windows cut wide into stone walls so anyone passing the courtyard below can look up and see movement, silhouettes, proof of life that can be pointed to if questions start flying. I understand the logic even as it makes my skin crawl, because visibility is a kind of leash when it’s designed this carefully, and I step inside with my shoulders squared, reminding myself that posture is still something I control.
Adam doesn’t follow me in right away, and the space feels larger for his absence, the bond stretching thin but not snapping, a low hum that settles once he stops just outside the doorway. A neutral guard takes position across the hall, another at the stairwell, their scents deliberately muted, and the door remains
