Juniper’s jaw tightened. The path beneath her feet pulsed with recaptured energy, but all she could feel was that twist in her stomach again. “It’s like they thrive on it,” she muttered. “The chaos. The power they wield over people’s futures.”

“That’s what makes them dangerous,” Sophia agreed quietly. Her pace slowed, and they all adjusted their rhythm to match. When she spoke again, her voice carried an odd note of confusion. “Actually… I think I saw him last year. At the festival.”

Juniper’s head whipped toward her. “Roma?”

“Yeah.” Sophia’s brow furrowed, her eyes distant as she pulled up the memory. “There was only one spot left at the parking array. Both our groups were heading for it at the same time. He could’ve easily claimed it, but…” She paused, something uncertain flickering across her face. “He just laughed and waved us through, said something like ‘I don’t know about you guys, but she can have it.’ Looking right at my little sister when he said it, not the adults.”

“Well, he seems like a big smelly ogre to me,” Juniper said, the words coming out sharper than intended. Her hand waved dismissively, as if she could physically brush away Sophia’s observation.

Sophia’s gaze drifted somewhere past Juniper’s shoulder. A small shift in her breathing, the way her next step landed just a fraction heavier. Nothing anyone else would notice.

Juniper found herself adjusting her own stride, her fingers curling slightly at her sides.

Daniel, who had been quiet, his hands in his pockets as they walked, finally spoke. “Trust me when I say…” his voice was low, measured, carrying weight… “we need to expand our approach.”

Both women turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes. Strategy. Experience. That same intensity from the courtroom.

“What do you mean?” Juniper asked, though part of her bristled at the implication that her approach wasn’t enough.