The apartment was dark.

Avi stood outside the door for longer than he realized, Nicholas's grey umbrella dripping steadily, pooling rainwater onto the welcome mat. The dampness had climbed high up the cuffs of his jeans, soaking slowly and uncomfortably into his socks. His fingers hovered over his keys, trembling slightly, before he finally forced the metal into the lock.

The deadbolt clicked. He opened the door.

Warm air met him first, carrying the familiar scents of the apartment, followed immediately by an absolute, heavy silence. No television. No music drifting from someone's headphones. No whistling kettle. Not even the quiet, rhythmic tapping of computer keys from Nicholas's room.

Avi shut the umbrella with a dull, wet snap, leaning it carefully against the doorframe. He slipped his shoes off automatically by the entrance. One pair already waited there-Nicholas's, still damp from yesterday.

Then he saw them. A second pair. Women's boots. Dark leather. Small.

Avi's stomach tightened into a hard, cold knot. He swallowed, his pulse-which had started racing somewhere back at the cemetery-refusing to slow down.

He followed the faint light.

The living room lights were on, casting a stark, sterile glow over the space. Oriane sat at one end of the sofa. Her elbows rested on her knees, her hands loosely clasped together in front of her. She looked exhausted, as though she'd been sitting in that exact position for a very long time.

She looked up first.

When their eyes met, a flicker of relief washed over her face, followed instantly by worry, and then... pity. The pity lasted only a heartbeat before she looked away, but it was enough to make Avi's chest ache.

Only then did Avi look at Nicholas.

He sat on one of the chairs at the small dining table, leaning heavily forward. One elbow rested against the wood, two fingers pressed hard against his temple as if trying to hold back a headache.

Shane's notebook lay open on the table between them. One page had been folded back, the paper slightly creased. His coffee sat untouched on the side table, a pale skin forming over the top, long since gone cold.

For several agonizing seconds, Avi remained standing awkwardly near the threshold of the hallway. The flat filled instead with the faint, rhythmic ticking of the wall clock and the rain whispering softly against the glass.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

"...Nicholas?" Avi's voice was barely a breath.

"Close the door."

The voice was quiet. Flat. It wasn't angry, and it wasn't even tired. It was just entirely empty.

Only then did Avi realize he'd left the hallway door slightly ajar behind him. He turned automatically, his movements rigid, and pushed it until the latch clicked softly into place.

When he faced the room again, Nicholas was looking directly at him.

The sheer weight of that stare almost made him stop breathing. There wasn't rage in those eyes-rage would have been easier to handle. There wasn't even disappointment. Instead, Avi felt a sudden, suffocating wave of familiarity. It was exactly what it would have felt like to stand in front of a juvenile investigator if he'd ever been caught before turning eighteen, carrying the crushing weight of every bad life choice he had ever made.

Nicholas held his gaze for another long, excruciating second. Then, slowly, he reached out and closed Shane's notebook. The worn leather cover made a soft, heavy thump against itself. He kept one broad hand rested flat over the cover, guarding it.

"...Sit."

Avi swallowed hard. His legs moved before his brain could even formulate a protest. He crossed the room quietly. For the first time since they'd met, he didn't choose where to sit. He didn't slouch, and he didn't make a joke.

The wooden legs scraped faintly across the floor as he pulled out the dining chair Nicholas had gestured toward.

He sat. Back straight. Hands clasped loosely together between his knees. His eyes remained fixed somewhere near the rim of the cold coffee mug, refusing to meet Nicholas's. He was nineteen years old, waiting for the floor to fall out from beneath him.

Across the room, Oriane watched the transformation happen in real time.

The sarcastic roommate who never shut up... the brilliant hacker who joked through his own panic attacks... the young man who had once stolen socks from Nicholas's dresser without a second thought... had quietly, entirely disappeared.

What sat in that chair instead looked painfully, devastatingly young.

Nicholas noticed it, too. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly as he stared at the boy. He inhaled-slowly, carefully-as though reminding himself that the person sitting opposite him wasn't seventeen.

And wasn't already buried beneath six feet of wet earth.

His thumb traced absently along the frayed edge of Shane's notebook before he finally spoke into the heavy room.

"...Did you read it?"

Avi nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. "...Yeah."

"Every page?"

"...Yes."

Nicholas rested his palm against the worn leather cover. "...Then you knew."

Silence stretched between them, suffocating and thick.

"You knew about Boaz."

Avi swallowed hard. "...Yes."

"And you said nothing."

Avi looked down. For a moment, he said nothing—because there wasn't a good answer. There wasn't a sentence in the language that didn't make him sound like a liar.

"...I didn't know what to do."

Nicholas's expression tightened, his jaw setting like concrete. "You had a choice."

Avi flinched. "No." The answer came too quickly.

Nicholas looked at him, his dark eyes sharp.

Avi's fingers twisted together in the hem of his sweater. "No, I didn't." A bitter, humorless laugh escaped him. "Not really."

He looked down at the notebook. "I knew what Shane wanted." A pause. "I knew what you would do."

His voice dropped to a murmur. "And I knew that if I gave this to you... Boaz would lose everything."

Nicholas didn't move a muscle.

"And if I didn't..." Avi's throat tightened, his voice straining. "...I was betraying you."

Silence.

"I kept waiting."

Nicholas frowned. "For what?"

Avi's eyes burned. "For something to change."

A shaky breath hitched in his chest. "For some impossible answer where nobody had to lose."

His voice cracked. "Where Shane didn't hate me."

A beat. "Where you didn't hate me."

Nicholas stared at him. Then—a quiet, broken laugh escaped his throat.

"Oh, don't worry," Nick said, his tone dripping with sharp irony.

Avi looked up.

"I already feel betrayed."

The words landed harder than Nicholas had intended. Avi went completely still, his breath catching in his throat.

"You had weeks, Avi."

"I know."

"You sat across from me every single day."

"I know."

"You watched me search for answers you already had in your hands."

"I know!"

"Do you?" Nicholas's voice sharpened into a blade. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you decided you knew better than everyone else."

Avi's jaw tightened. "I was trying to—"

"You were trying to help?" Nicholas stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "That's what everyone says."

Avi froze.

The second the words left his mouth, Nicholas knew they were wrong, but he was too far gone in the momentum of his own fury. "Every person who crosses a line tells themselves the exact same thing. I'm helping. I'm fixing it. I'm protecting someone." His eyes flickered coldly to Shane's notebook. "And then someone ends up dead."

Avi went utterly quiet.

"You withheld evidence, concealed information from an active police investigation, and actively protected a criminal!" Nick's voice rose, tight with restrained, lethal fury. "All while putting yourself directly in harm's way!"

Avi remained completely silent, unable to offer a defense.

"The difference between you and me, Avi..." Nick stepped closer, towering over him, forcing Avi to hold his gaze. "...is that I don't get to choose which laws I feel like following."

Avi flinched, looking away.

"You read forty pages, Avinash."

"..."

"You read every single warning."

"..."

"You read him begging you to stop."

"..."

"You read him pleading with you not to become him."

Every sentence struck harder than the last, systematically stripping away the last of Avi's defenses until he was completely bare.

"And you still went back."

Silence.

"You still met with everyone you've been hiding from me."

Avi's breathing became noticeably shallower, his chest hitching behind his damp sweater.

"You still kept digging."

"..."

"You still thought..." Nicholas's voice suddenly cracked—a microscopic, devastating tear in his iron composure. "...that you'd somehow be different."

The room became unbearably, suffocatingly quiet. Outside, the rain whispered softly against the glass, a quiet background hum to the wreckage inside Apartment 4B. Avi rubbed unconsciously at the sleeve of his sweater, his fingers digging into his arm as he desperately sought an anchor.

"When people stop trusting the system..." Nicholas's voice dropped, losing every trace of anger, replaced by a hollow, crushing fatigue. "...they start believing they have to carry everything themselves." His gaze dropped briefly to the battered notebook on the table. "I've buried too many people who thought they could handle it alone."

A painful quiet settled over them. After a long moment, Nicholas reached into the inside pocket of his dark coat, pulled out a folded document, and laid it flat on the wooden table. Official letterhead. Government seal. Already signed in dark ink.

Avi frowned, staring down at the paper. "...What's that?"

"Witness Protection Authorization."

Avi blinked, his brow furrowing. "...What?"

"I'm taking over this entire investigation."

"You can't—"

"I already have." Nicholas folded his arms across his broad chest. "From this exact moment on, you don't step foot outside this apartment."

Avi gave a short, disbelieving laugh, looking around the room as if waiting for a punchline. "...Seriously?"

"Try me."

The smile vanished instantly from Avi's face.

"You attempt to contact Boaz..." Nicholas held his gaze without a flicker of hesitation. "...I will arrest you."

Silence.

"You interfere with this investigation again..." Another beat. "...I will put you in a cell."

Avi stared at him, stunned into absolute silence.

"I don't care if you hate me for the rest of your life."

Nicholas stepped around the table, his physical presence suddenly overwhelming. His broad hand went straight for Avi's hoodie pocket.

Avi reacted on pure instinct. He reached up and caught Nicholas's wrist tight before he could reach it. "...Don't."

Nicholas looked down at the hand gripping him, his eyes deadpan. "Move."

"No."

Without another word, Nicholas shifted his body weight. With one sharp, practiced leverage twist of his wrist, he broke Avi's grip instantly. Before Avi could even regain his footing, Nicholas caught his forearm, rotated it sharply behind his back, and guided him forward into the edge of the table.

Pain shot through Avi's shoulder joint. "Ah—"

Oriane stood up from the sofa.

"...Guys."

Neither of them heard her.

"Stop fighting me," Nick growled into his ear, his voice rough.

"I'm not letting you—"

Nicholas bent the arm another inch upward, forcing Avi's torso down against the wood. It wasn't enough to dislocate, but it was easily enough to render resistance completely pointless.

Avi hissed through his teeth, his forehead pressing into the hard surface.

With his free hand, Nicholas reached deep into Avi's hoodie pocket, roughly yanking out the house keys, then his phone. The wallet followed a second later. Only when he had all three did he release the pressure and let go.

Avi stumbled two steps away, clutching his shoulder and rubbing at the joint. "...YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE!"

Nicholas didn't bother answering, pocketing the retrieved items into his coat pocket.

Avi lunged at him in pure, blind anger.

Nicholas turned and caught him before Avi even made full contact. One strong forearm slammed across Avi's chest, pinning him backward against the wall, while Nick's other hand swept up, trapping both of Avi's wrists against his sternum in a single, crushing grip.

Avi struggled violently against the hold, thrashing his legs. "LET GO!"

Nicholas held him there—solid, immovable, an iron wall. "I said stop."

"GET OFF ME!"

"I don't want to hurt you, Avi."

"Too late!" Avi jerked again with everything he had, trying to wrench his wrists free of Nick's fingers.

Nicholas tightened his hold just enough to kill the movement.

"ENOUGH!"

The shout exploded through the apartment.

Oriane flinched.

Everything stopped. Even Avi froze, his chest heaving wildly against Nick's arm, his breathing coming in ragged, shallow gasps. Nicholas was breathing just as hard, his jaw working as he looked down at him.

"You think I wanted my parents dead?" Nick roared, his face inches from Avi's. "You think I'm happy that Shane is dead? You think I enjoyed reading that notebook and realizing I've been months behind a dead twenty-year-old?" Every sentence came faster, sharper, cutting through the air like shrapnel. "You think I enjoyed finding out you—the person I trust most in this world—have been lying to my face for weeks?"

Avi stood perfectly still, pinned against the wall, utterly destroyed beneath the weight of it. "I chose you—"

"I DIDN'T ASK YOU TO!"

The words ripped straight out of Nicholas's throat before he could stop them, shattering what was left of his restraint.

Silence. Heavy, ugly, and ruinous.

"I didn't ask you..." Nick's voice cracked, suddenly dropping low and entirely broken. "...to carry this for me."

For one awful second, neither of them moved. Nicholas looked down at Avi, and his rigid gaze softened just a fraction as he saw Avi's eyes—glassy, wide, brimming with unshed tears. Avi hadn't even realized he'd started crying.

Only then did Nicholas realize how tightly he was still pinning him to the wall, his knuckles white against Avi's wrists.

He released him immediately, stepping back as if burned.

Avi staggered backward against the drywall, instinctively cradling his sore arm against his ribs. Neither of them spoke.

Nicholas closed his eyes, taking one long, steadying breath to force his pulse down. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped back to barely above a whisper.

"...I'm just trying to keep you alive." He met Avi's glossy, hurt eyes. "...I'm responsible for keeping the only witness reckless enough to keep walking into danger alive."

Nicholas turned toward Oriane, his face locking into a emotionless mask once more. "He's yours."

Oriane blinked, completely taken aback by the storm that had just unfolded. "...Excuse me?"

"I'm leaving."

"I don't babysit grown men, Damine."

"You do today."

She let out a dramatic, bitter sigh, running a hand over her face. "I hate both of you."

Nicholas picked up his dark coat from the back of the chair. Behind him, Avi spoke, his voice tiny in the vast quiet of the space.

"...Nick."

Nicholas stopped right at the front door, his broad hand resting on the brass handle. He didn't turn around.

"...Don't make me choose, Avi."

His hand tightened around the doorknob until his knuckles turned stark white.

"...Between my badge..."

A long, suffocating pause stretched between them.

"...and you."

The door opened.

Then closed.

The lock clicked.

Silence.

Neither of them moved.

Twenty seconds.

Thirty.

Finally, Oriane let out the breath she'd been holding.

"...Well."

Nothing.

Oriane's eyes drifted toward Avi's slumping shoulder, already imagining the deep, angry bruise that would settle there before long. Her gaze flicked back to the cold, untouched mug of coffee sitting on the counter, then down to Shane's worn notebook resting on the wooden table.

"...He read that thing three times."

Avi didn't move from the wall, his forehead resting lightly against the plaster.

"He hasn't slept a wink." She rubbed tiredly at the back of her neck. "I got here before sunrise. He was just standing by the window staring at the rain."

Another heavy silence filled the apartment.

"I've known Nicholas a long time."

A beat.

"I've seen him furious. I've seen him dangerous."

Another long beat.

"I've never seen him scared."

Oriane looked back at the front door. "He's probably regretting half of what he just said."

Her eyes settled back on Avi. 

"Terrified isn't a language he speaks very well."

She shrugged.

"He gets... obsessive. When something slips out of his hands, his brain starts inventing the worst possible ending."

A beat.

"And in our world...he's usually right."

Silence settled over them again, punctuated only by the faint tap of rain against the windowpane.

She sighed softly, crossing her arms. "You disappeared. He couldn't find you. Do you know what that means to someone like Nicholas?"

Avi swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

"He's buried enough people already."

A pause.

"...I'm not sure he'd survive another."

Avi blinked hard against the fierce sting in his eyes, but a fresh tear escaped anyway, slipping hot down his cheek.

He felt like crying all over again.