Coordinates
It only took four days. Four long, restless days of pretending to train, pretending to plan, pretending not to check the comms table every time someone walked past it. Now Iris stood in Ashton’s office, arms folded, staring at the small screen on his desk. Coordinates. That was it. A string of numbers and a location tag. No greeting. No explanation. No signature. “This is all she wrote?” Iris asked. Ashton leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “That’s it.” Elias stood beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him at her shoulder. “What did you say to her?” he asked. “I told her Iris is here,” Ashton replied evenly. “And that she wants to meet. I asked when she’d be back.” Elias glanced at the screen again. “And this was her reply.” “Maybe she w
- Writer
