Free Web NovelChapter 326: Chapter 326 Your Turn
Allison
’It also helps,’ I say, and write the last header.
Bail-outs.
I underlined it twice. "If I need to leave a room and I don’t want to explain why, I’m going to text Daniel a phrase and he’ll call with a pretext. You don’t block the door, you don’t try to negotiate me back into the room. You walk me out or you stay, but you don’t follow unless I say come."
"What’s the phrase?" he asks.
"Inventory check," I say. "If you see me send it, you don’t ask questions. You’ll get answers later, not there."
"Copy," he says. He doesn’t look offended. He looks like a person relieved there’s a plan that doesn’t require a fight.
"And if you need a bail-out," I add, "you text me milk’s out. I will get you out of a room without asking you to explain your father or a donor."
He laughs once under his breath because he started the milk joke and I decided to keep it. "Deal."
I draw a short line at the bottom and push the notebook and pen toward him. "Your turn. Add anything you need."
He reads the page again from the top, slow. He writes one sentence under mine;
If you say you’re done for the night, I don’t try to fix it with a second location. I walk you to your door and I go.
He dots the period and slides the pen back, hand open, palm up. He looks at me and waits for me to close it.
"Yes," I say, and put my palm to his for one second. Sparks run clean up my arm and into my throat. I press once and pull back.
He doesn’t chase the contact. He sets his palm on his knee and looks at the list again like he wants to memorize it before anything can move it.
"Thank you for writing this," he says.
"Thank you for signing it," I say. freёwebnoѵel.com
He leans back in the chair and breathes. "One more question."
"Ask," I tell him.
"In the car Tuesday," he says, voice careful, "can I sit in your row?"
"Yes," I say. "If I say I want the window, take the aisle. No middle."
"Copy," he says, and it sounds like more than just a travel preference.
We walk out together but with space between us. At the library door he stops like there’s supposed to be a ritual, there isn’t. I lift a hand and he bumps his knuckles to mine, simple and quick, and walks me to the square. He doesn’t try to take my bag, he doesn’t ask to come in. He says, "Text when you’re home," and heads for the main road.
I cut through the alley and climb my steps. The cottage lights are steady and I lock the door, set my bag down, and put the notebook on the counter. I photograph the page and save the image in a file called Rules and a second copy in Notes, Edges. Then I open my thread with Daniel.
Me: Need a thing.
Daniel: Go.
Me: Fallback plan if I need to leave a room fast. Phrase is inventory check. You call with something that requires me now. Then you or Fallon meet me at the nearest door.
Daniel: We already do that for Omegas during event nights. You’re on the list now.
Me: Good. Add a go-bag.
Daniel: Location?
Me: Locker 3A in Admin. Contents; copy of my ID, cash, charger, scrub top and joggers, hoodie, spare keys. Put a basic first-aid kit in it.
Daniel: On it. Extraction route?
Me: If I’m in the packhouse; service corridor to loading bay. If I’m at the gym; east exit to the staff lot. If I’m at the square; library side door.
Daniel: I’ll pin routes and share them to you as maps so it doesn’t look like a plan if anyone glances. Code knock if we end up at your door?
Me: Two short, one long.
Daniel: Rehearsal?
Me: Tomorrow at 7pm. Ten minutes.
Daniel: Added. Allison, this isn’t you giving up.
Me: I know. It’s me refusing to be trapped.
Daniel: Proud of you. Also, remember to eat.
I send him a picture of the burrito in my freezer like a threat, and he sends a skull emoji because he hates those. I put actual food on a plate instead; rice, beans, the last of the chicken, and a handful of greens. I eat standing at the counter while the Ops app shows No Incidents at the bottom of the screen.
My phone buzzes with one message.
Elijah: Read the list again. I’m in. Text when you want me to practice the bail-outs with you so it’s muscle memory.
Me: Tomorrow after the rehearsal with Daniel. Alley behind the diner.
Elijah: Copy. Good night.
Me: Night.
I set the phone down and breathe. The burn under my skin is real. So is the relief. Both can live in the same room if the rules hold.
’You didn’t apologize for wanting him,’ Ruby says, approving and a little smug. ’You didn’t ask him to want less. You set the line and made sure both of you could find it in the dark.’
"Exactly," I say.
I shower, pull on a soft shirt, and climb into bed with the notebook still in reach, even though I’ve already saved it twice. I flip to a fresh page and write three lines under the date:
Rules are not punishment. They are how we move.
He matched my pace without making me pay for it.
Plan, then want. Not the other way around.
I close the book and the cottage is quiet. The square outside is quiet just like it’s supposed to be at this time at night. No threats, no warnings. I exhale a breath before grabbing my phone for a last text.
Me to Fallon; If Ops needs my angle for the wardroom tomorrow, ping me by 9am. Also, thank you for holding S7 steady.
Fallon; Received. And you held the S7 steady. Sleep.
I smile at the screen, turn the lamp off, and lie back.
’We did the right thing,’ Ruby says, softer.
"We did," I answer out loud. "We’ll do it again tomorrow."
Sleep comes without asking me to trade the rules for peace, so I keep both.
