We pack up my apartment in three hours flat.
Not because I want to. Because Jordan insists we can't go back until he's swept every inch for cameras and bugs and whatever else Chen might have planted. So Harper, Marcus, and Liam descend on the place like a moving crew, boxing up my life while I stand in the middle of my living room feeling displaced.
"This one?" Harper holds up a photo of my father. The last one taken before he died.
"Yes. That comes."
She packs it carefully. Everything's being handled carefully, like I'm fragile. Like I might break if someone moves too fast or says the wrong thing.
Maybe they're right.
"You don't have to take everything," Liam says, taping another box shut. "Just what you need for now. We can come back for the rest once this is over."
Once this is o
