The signal came through sharp and sudden. Movement on the northern border. Felicia's comm crackled with the guard's voice, professional but urgent.
She moved immediately. Her feet carried her to the children's room in quick strides. Danny and Max looked up as she entered, sensing the change in her energy.
"On the bed. Both of you." She kept her voice low and firm. "Quiet."
They climbed onto Danny's bed without questions. Max's eyes went wide, but he didn't speak. Felicia turned and headed for the door, not running but moving with purpose.
The corridor stretched ahead of her. Her boots hit the floor in a steady rhythm, eating up distance. She reached Damien's office and pushed through the door without knocking.
Damien stood by the monitors, his back to her. A radio was pressed to his ear, and his voice carried across the room in that work tone she'd heard before. Controlled. Professional. No panic bleeding through.
"Felicia." He acknowledged her presence without turning around.
"I want to see the screen." Her voice came out sharp, cutting. "Not hear a summary."
Damien moved aside immediately. He positioned himself so she could stand next to the monitor bank, careful not to let his hand brush her shoulder as he gestured to the displays.
The map showed up on the center screen. Red markers pulsed at the northern boundary, indicating detected movement. Felicia leaned closer, her eyes scanning the positioning.
"This could be a distraction." She spoke evenly, her mind already working through possibilities. "Test the internal passages while we're looking outward."
Damien nodded once. "Agreed. Do you want additional guards at your wing?"
"Yes." Felicia pointed to the map without hesitation. "Cover the east stairwell and the supply corridor. Those are the weak points."
Damien lifted the radio to his mouth. "All units. Guard placement per Felicia's directive. East stairwell and supply corridor. Double coverage. Everyone acknowledge."
The responses came back one by one. Roger that. Confirmed. Moving now. Damien lowered the radio, and Felicia caught the deliberate phrasing. He'd said her name. Made it clear these were her orders, her plan.
She filed that detail away, noting it without comment. When the all-clear signal came through fifteen minutes later, Felicia's shoulders stayed tight. Her jaw worked, muscles tensing under skin.
"Someone's testing our response." The words came out hard, certain.
Damien didn't argue. He met her eyes and nodded, acknowledging the assessment. They stood there for a moment, the weight of the threat hanging between them.
Felicia turned and walked out. Damien followed at that familiar distance, two steps behind. When they reached the corridor leading to her wing, she stopped and turned to face him.
"If there's a real attack." Her voice dropped low, intense. "You evacuate the children. First route. No heroics."
Damien's mouth opened. The objection formed on his tongue, ready to come out. Then he stopped. His jaw clenched, and he took a breath through his nose.
"I'll evacuate them per your plan." The words came out even, controlled. "Even if I don't like it."
Felicia nodded once. Not accepting his words, but acknowledging the self-control it took to say them. The way he'd stopped himself from arguing, from trying to take charge.
They continued to her wing in silence. Inside, Danny sat on the edge of the bed with Max tucked against his side. Both boys looked up as the door opened.
"Are we leaving again?" Danny's question came out direct, worried.
"Not yet." Felicia kept her tone calm, steady. "But we need to be ready."
Damien moved closer and crouched down. His knees bent until he was at Danny's eye level, not looming over the boy. "I won't let them take you."
He said it quietly, firmly. But he didn't add "never" or "I promise." Didn't make guarantees he couldn't keep. The careful wording hung in the air, honest and measured.
Felicia noticed. She watched him speak to their son without interrupting, letting the moment play out. Danny seemed to relax slightly, his shoulders dropping from their tense position.
Max made a small sound. His hand shot out and grabbed Felicia's sleeve, fingers twisting in the fabric. Fear radiated from his small body, making him shake.
Damien stayed where he was. He didn't reach for Max or try to pull the boy toward him. Didn't take over the comforting or assume he should be the one to handle it. He left the choice to Felicia.
She knelt and wrapped her arms around Max. Pulled him close, letting him bury his face against her shoulder. Her hand rubbed circles on his back, soothing and steady.
"You did the right thing." She spoke to Damien without looking at him, her voice even. "Not interfering."
"I'm learning." The response came out quiet, almost a whisper.
Damien stood and took a step back. Put more space between himself and the emotional moment unfolding in front of him. His hands stayed at his sides, not reaching out even though the urge must have been there.
Felicia didn't tell him to leave. Didn't snap at him to go or shut the door in his face. She allowed him to be there, present in the room but not crowding. Existing in her space with the understanding that she controlled the distance.
They stood like that for a long moment. Max's breathing gradually evened out against Felicia's shoulder. Danny watched them all with those too-aware eyes, processing more than a child his age should have to.
Damien remained by the wall. Still. Quiet. Not pushing for more than he'd been given.
The silence stretched between them, not uncomfortable but charged with awareness. Each of them existing in this shared space, connected by fear and children and the thread of something that might become trust if given enough time.
Outside, the packhouse settled back into its evening rhythms. Guards patrolled the newly fortified positions. Monitors flickered with feeds from cameras covering every angle.
But in this room, the four of them existed in a bubble. Fragile. Temporary. But real nonetheless.
Tomorrow might bring the real threat. Might force them to run or fight or make impossible choices. But tonight, for this moment, they stood together in the way broken things do when they're trying to mend.
Not whole. Not healed. But learning how to exist in the same space without shattering further.