Mei stood alone in the room after the door clicked shut.

The silence rushed back in to fill the space Ryan had left behind was painful. She stayed where she was for a long moment, not moving, just standing in the middle of the floor with her arms at her sides.

She had told him to leave. Told him not to come back. Her words had come out louder than she’d meant them to, sharper, and she knew even as she said them that they weren’t the whole truth. Maybe not even close to it. But they were necessary, that much she was sure of.

Because she knew what Ryan coming for her would mean.

Gaspar was waiting for exactly that. She’d seen the way that man worked, could feel the trap laid out underneath all of this like a snare buried just below the surface. Mei was the bait, she’d understood that from almost the first day. The goal was to draw Ryan here, to Brigantine, where Gaspar could take him on his own terms, on ground he controlled. Ryan walking back through those doors with rescue on his mind would be walking straight into it.

She wasn’t going to be the reason that happened.

Keith’s plan was still there. It was fragile and risky and would require everything going right in a situation that had shown very little interest in going right so far but it existed, and she believed in it enough to hold onto it. She could do this without Ryan. She had to do this without Ryan. Waiting to be pulled out by someone else wasn’t something she was willing to settle for, not when she had a path, however narrow, that she could walk herself.

What kind of woman would she be if she just sat here and waited?

She thought of Sydney, sharp, fearless, a Dullahan host with power that could level a room. She thought of Rachel, whose barrier ability had saved lives more than once. She thought of Cindy. All of them capable in ways that were visible and there, in ways that left marks on the people around them. And then there was Mei. No inherited power, no symbiote, no ability that set her apart from anyone else still breathing.

If she couldn’t even get herself out of a situation like this, what exactly was she bringing to that group?

Her hand moved without her fully deciding to move it. Her fingers found the spot on her arm where Ryan had gripped her, still faintly warm, his hold having been firm but not rough.

It was exactly a kind of grip he would give, kind but still holding on it telling that he wouldn’t abandon her.

She pressed her fingers over it and felt her hand trembling slightly. She stilled it with effort, pressing harder until the trembling stopped.

She’d wanted to tell him the truth. The real truth, that she was frightened, that this place felt like it was slowly swallowing her whole, that she had spent the morning hoping against her own better judgment that today would be the day she went home. That she’d woken up thinking maybe, just maybe, she’d be sleeping somewhere safer tonight. Around people she trusted. Around him.

But it hadn’t happened. And something about that, about watching the hope quietly run out had made her cruel in its wake. The bitterness had gotten into her words before she could catch it, and so she’d pushed him away instead, shoved it all back at him where it couldn’t be used against her.

And that question she’d asked him—important to you, how? Like Sydney? Like Rachel?—where had that even come from? She turned it over now, prodding at it the way you prod at a bruise to confirm it’s still there. If it had been Sydney in this room, or Rachel, would he have already thrown caution out entirely and come running regardless of the consequences? She thought probably yes. She thought he probably wouldn’t have hesitated for a second.

A bitter smile pulled at the corner of her mouth at that thought.

"Since when am I this pathetic..."

She knew the answer, even if she didn’t much like it. Somewhere between Lexington Charter and Jackson Township, somewhere in the middle of all the chaos and surviving and everything that came with Ryan’s strange orbit, she’d let her guard down. She’d spent years building walls she was proud of, a careful distance between herself and the world that kept things clean and manageable. And somewhere along the way she’d simply... stopped maintaining them. Started letting people in without meaning to. Started caring about things she hadn’t budgeted for.

And now here she was, enemy territory, no power, no backup, sitting with a chest full of feelings she didn’t know what to do with and walls that were no longer where she’d left them.

She exhaled slowly, let the bitter smile fade, and sat back down on the sofa.

She would wait. She would think. She would find the right moment for Keith’s plan, and she would walk out of here on her own two feet, and she would do it without needing to be rescued.

She pressed her fingers once more over the warm spot on her arm, then folded her hands in her lap and stared at the pale light coming through the curtains.

She just had to wait a little longer.

°°°

I walked out through the front of the Golden Nugget and into the open air without looking back.

No one tried to stop us. The armed men near the entrance watched us go with the quiet indifference of people who’d been told to stand still and stand still was what they did. No one reached for a weapon, no one called out. I scanned the surrounding area as discreetly as I could manage, the road, the marina, the shadows near the hotel’s side entrance.

No sign of Gaspar. Whatever hole he’d crawled into today, he’d stayed in it.

I crossed the distance to where Sydney, Rachel, and Cindy were waiting, and felt some of the tension in my shoulders ease just from the sight of them standing there in one piece.

"Well?" Cindy asked, stepping forward before I’d even fully reached them.

"I saw her," I said. "She’s not hurt. She seems okay."

"Then why do you look like that?" Sydney asked, tilting her head, reading my face.

"Let’s leave first," I said. "I’ll talk when we’re clear of this place."

No one argued. We moved.

We regrouped with Molly, Maribel, and Rico further back, where they’d been holding position the whole time, patient and quiet. Molly looked up as I approached, her sniper rifle slung, eyebrow raised.

"You see your girl?" she asked.

"I saw her," I said. "She’s not hurt. Seems like they’re keeping her reasonably."

Rico shot me a look from the side, narrow, unimpressed. "I still don’t understand why you didn’t go through with the exchange."

"There’s an innocent life involved," Rachel replied instead.

"That Lucy got herself into this by dealing with Callighan’s people in the first place," Rico replied. "That’s on her."

"It doesn’t matter," I said, cutting it off before it went further. "I’m getting Mei back. I don’t need a hostage exchange to do it."

Rico held my gaze for a moment, then looked away. He didn’t push it further, which was the right call.

"Ryan." Cindy fell into step beside me as the group started moving. "What actually happened in there? Did you speak with her properly?"

"Yeah," I said. "I did."

"And what did tell you?" Sydney cut in with a grin. "She dropped the ice queen act and declared her love, right? ’Oh, Ryan, you came for me, take me away from all this nightmare and save me! I always loved you—’"

"Incredibly thoughtful, Sydney," Rachel cut her off, fixing her with a look.

"I’m just going off the evidence I’ve been collecting," Sydney said, completely unbothered. "My observations of Mei’s interactions with Ryan have been very illuminating."

"You are observing useless things," Cindy said.

"Anything concerning Ryan is not useless," Sydney shot back.

"Can you take this seriously for five minutes?" Maribel’s voice cut across. She was looking at Sydney as if she was looking at some new specimen. "This is your friend we’re talking about."

Sydney glanced over at her. "Oh, the warrior queen has notes now."

"The what?"

"Warrior queen," Sydney repeated. "It’s a compliment."

"I don’t want your compliments," Maribel said, stepping closer. "I want to know if you’re actually concerned about your friend or if this is all just entertainment for you."

"I’m concerned," Sydney replied crossing her arms. "If I wasn’t concerned I wouldn’t have shown up here. I don’t waste time on things I don’t care about. But while we’re on the subject of motivations—" she tilted her head at Maribel, "—you came here hoping to catch a glimpse of Callighan and settle some old scores, didn’t you? Don’t talk to me about concern."

The air between them went very stern.

"You know nothing about me," Maribel said quietly.

"Alright—enough, both of you." Rachel stepped between them, one hand against each of their shoulders, pushing firmly.

Molly put a hand on Maribel’s back as well. "Hey," she said quietly. Just that.

Maribel held the tension for another beat, then exhaled through her nose and turned away.

Sydney’s smirk returned, briefly. Then Rachel’s hand found her ear.

"Ow... Rachel! You’re supposed to be on my side!"

"I am on your side," Rachel said, not releasing her grip. "That’s exactly why I’m doing this."

I hadn’t said anything for a while. I’d been walking and thinking and mostly tuning out the noise, and Cindy had noticed.

"Ryan," she called me softly.

I looked at her.

I let out a breath. "She told me not to come for her. That she was fine. That she didn’t need saving." I paused. "And she meant it when she said it."

Cindy stared at me, something flickering in her expression. "She actually said that?"

"Yeah."

Sydney, somehow still tracking the conversation despite the ongoing ear situation, let go of her own indignation and turned toward me with something that looked almost like certainty.

"Okay, why is everyone worried about this?" she said. "If she said exactly that, in that way, it means the exact opposite."

I looked at her. "What?"

"This is textbook," Sydney said, pulling free from Rachel and stepping closer with a smirk. "Female lead gets taken. Hero shows up. She’s scared, she’s proud, and she is terrified of something bad happening to the people trying to help her, so she shouts them away. Cold look, harsh words, ’don’t come for me, I’m fine’?" She pointed at me. "That’s the scene. That is the exact scene. Did she glare at you and snap when she said it?"

I blinked. "...Yeah."

"Then she needs to be saved and she wants to be saved," Sydney said simply, crossing her arms like the matter was settled.

I stared at her. "Then why not just say that? Why not just be honest about it?"

"Because she doesn’t want any of us getting hurt trying to rescue her," Sydney said. "She’d rather sit there and handle it alone than watch one of us take a bullet on her behalf. That’s just someone who cares more about the people around her than she’ll ever admit out loud. A real tsundere."

"Mei’s never been great at showing her emotions," Cindy said, a small giggle escaping her. "Especially around you."

"Why especially around me?"

"Because you’re too nosy," Rachel answered before Cindy could, a quiet smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

I looked at her for a second, then let my gaze drift back over my shoulder, back toward the Golden Nugget, still visible behind us, its glass face pale and dead against the grey sky. Somewhere inside that building Mei was sitting in a room that wasn’t hers, holding herself together with both hands and pretending she didn’t need anyone.

But I didn’t believe it.

"It doesn’t matter that she’s worried about us," I said. "I’m getting her out of there."

No one argued with that. No quip from Sydney, no cautious look from Rachel. They just walked beside me and let the words sit.

Everything that had led here traced back to one decision, mine. Wanda. The Starakian moving to take her, and me stepping in front of that, preventing her from leaving. It had been the right call. I didn’t doubt that for a single second and I never would. But Gaspar’s presence here, the reason he’d surfaced at all, the chain of events that had put Mei in that room, it ran back to that moment like a thread pulled tight.

My decision.

My consequence.

Regardless of what Mei said, that it doesn’t concern me...

"She’s my responsibility."