The Sheriff shut the door behind them.
The sound was solid. Final.
It didn't echo, it didn't slam, and it didn't dramatize itself.
It simply closed the space and locked them inside a room that smelled like old wood, ink, dust, and authority that had never been questioned.
"This is where you stop being a rumor," the Sheriff said, moving toward his desk. "And start being a pain in my ass."
Aerenyx did not put Sera down.
And of course, the Sheriff noticed.
His eyes flicked to the placement of Aerenyx's arms, the way Sera was being held like a princess, the fact that she wasn't slumped or limp.
He catalogued it the way he catalogued everything.
"Containment protocol allows for injury accommodation," he said. "For now."
Sera didn't thank him.
She didn't argue either.
