Juniper stood perfectly still, watching him. Something about seeing him like this - not the composed attorney from the office, but raw and pacing - made her chest feel tight in a way she couldn’t quite place.

In the darkened window glass behind him, she caught her own reflection and saw in it the weight of the sword he may have been carrying - or perhaps had always been carrying herself. She couldn’t tell which. She shifted her weight, suddenly aware of how warm the corridor had become.

“Oh,” he said, as if remembering something. “Sophia’s been messaging. She lost service on the bullet but she’s connected now. Says she knew everything would be fine once you got here.” A small smile touched his lips. “She also mentioned Kenery needs those photos from East Park Logis before pretrial…”

“My place,” Juniper said before she could stop herself. “We could all meet there tomorrow.”

Their eyes met across the room, then quickly darted away - his to the window, hers to the floor. A moment later, it happened again. Then again. Each time, the contact lasted a fraction longer before breaking.

“All done with the scan!”

The nurse’s cheerful voice broke through their bubble as Mrs. Sorrin’s wheelchair appeared in the doorway. Mrs. Sorrin’s eyes moved between them with quiet intelligence, taking in their startled steps apart, the way they both rushed to smooth nonexistent wrinkles from their clothes.