37. Ella
ELLA
The garage door is still swinging when I realize I can’t breathe.
I just stand there, watching the dust drift in the slant of light, heart rattling around like it’s trying to escape my ribs. The smell of burned circuits and grease clings to me.
He’s gone.
And I let him go.
I sink down on the nearest stool, elbows on my knees, palms pressed to my face. My fingers smell like oil and fear.
He looked so calm when he left. That’s what scares me. Takhiss in a rage is dangerous. Takhiss in a cold, calculated silence is lethal.
I look around at the mess of wires and tools we were working on just an hour ago. Takhiss’s handprint is dented into the door panel where he slammed it earlier. The metal is twisted in the shape of his claws.
My throat burns.
He’s going to the Embassy. He’s going to walk right into Autrua’s den and demand answers. And if she pushes him—if she threatens Vex to his face—I don’t know if he’ll walk out.
I check my compad. Nothing.
I check the news feeds. Nothing yet. No reports of violence at the Coalition Embassy. No breaking news about a rogue soldier.
That’s good. Silence is good.
But it presses on me, thick as fog.
I head for the door, looking out at the street. The sun is dropping behind the towers of Novaria, the sky gone gold bleeding into violet. The air smells like ozone and roasted street corn.
I have to get Vex. He’s safe at school, but suddenly that doesn’t feel safe enough.
I pull my jacket tighter around me and start walking. The pavement hums faintly beneath my boots.
When I get to the school, Vex is sitting on the low wall near the gate, swinging his legs, a holo of some cartoon flickering above his wrist. He’s humming—off-key and cheerful.
My heart clenches.
“Hey, baby,” I call softly.
He looks up, his grin instant and brilliant. “Mom!” He hops down and barrels toward me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I lift him up, breathing in the scent of soap and dust and the faint metallic tang that always seems to cling to him—like his father.
Gods, I can’t even think that without my throat closing.
“You okay?” he asks, peering up at me with those big, dark eyes.
“I’m fine.” The lie slides out easy. “Just missed you.”
He tilts his head. “Where’s Takhiss?”
The question hits me like a physical blow.
“He had some work to do,” I say, my voice steady. “Important work.”
We start walking home, his hand tucked in mine.
“You smell sad,” Vex says suddenly.
That stops me. “What?”
He wrinkles his nose. “Like when the rain hits the broken lights outside the garage. That smell.”
I force a laugh. “You and your nose.”
But he’s not wrong. I probably smell like burnt circuits and panic.
By the time we reach the garage apartment, the sky has turned a bruised blue. The lights inside are still on, illuminating the scattered tools. But Takhiss isn’t here.
The silence feels like frost creeping up my spine.
I lock the door behind us—triple lock. I check the window sensors.
“Can I watch a holo?” Vex asks.
“Yeah, go ahead.”
He bounds off toward the small couch. I watch him go, chest tight.
Then I pull out my compad again. Still no message.
I sink to the floor, leaning back against the cabinet. The hum of the city filters through the thin walls.
I picture Takhiss standing in front of Autrua. I picture her smiling that snake-smile. I picture him tearing the room apart.
Please be smart, I pray. Please be a father, not a soldier.
The compad buzzes.
I jump, snatching it up.
A message. From him.
Takhiss: I’m leaving the Embassy.
I let out a breath.
Ella: Are you okay?
Three dots flicker. Then stop. Then start again.
Takhiss: She filed it. The motion. It’s done.
My stomach drops.