Morning didn't arrive gently.It never did in New York—but today it felt sharper, like the city had woken up already irritated.
Ava surfaced from sleep slowly, the way someone does when they're afraid of what consciousness might bring with it. Her body was warm beneath the blanket, curled inward, but tension lived just under her skin, coiled and waiting.
For one hazy second, she didn't remember where she was.
Then the ceiling came into focus but the ceiling was not hers.
Her heart kicked hard as she pushed herself up, breath quickening—until she saw him.
Ethan was still there.
Standing by the window now, one hand braced against the frame, eyes tracking the street below through a narrow slit in the blinds. He hadn't changed clothes. He hadn't slept. The faint gray of early morning outlined his silhouette, making him look carved from shadow and vigilance.
Relief hit her first and then something heavier.
"You've been up all night," she said, her voice rough with sleep.
He didn't turn. "I always am."
"That's not an answer."
He glanced back at her then, just briefly. "It's the truth."
She swung her legs off the couch carefully, feet finding the cool floor. Every movement felt too loud in the quiet apartment, like the day itself was holding its breath.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"Just past five."
She winced. "That explains the headache."
"You're dehydrated," Ethan said. "And your lungs are still irritated."
She looked at him. "You sound like a doctor."
"I think I just listen."
He crossed the room and handed her a glass of water she hadn't seen him pour. She took it, fingers brushing his for half a second.The contact was brief likewise intentional in its restraint.
She drank slowly, aware of him watching—not her body, not her face, but the way she held the glass, the steadiness of her hands.
"Are you checking to see if I shake?" she asked.
"Yes."
"And?"
"You're holding up much better."
She set the glass down. "I don't fall apart easily."
"I know."
Something about the way he said it—quiet, certain—settled deeper than she expected.
She stood. "I need my phone."
Ethan's gaze sharpened instantly. "No."
"I wasn't asking permission."Ava said as her spine stiffened.
"I've told you many times that you don't get to broadcast your location," he said evenly. "Not yet."
"That's not sustainable," she shot back.
"People will notice."
"They already have."
The words landed heavier than she expected.
She studied his face. "What does that mean?"
Instead of answering, Ethan moved to the laptop on the table and turned it toward her.
"Come here."
She hesitated, then stepped closer.
The screen was filled with lines of code, network maps branching outward like veins. Small red indicators pulsed along several nodes.
"What am I looking at?" she asked.
"Attempts," Ethan said. "To access your devices. Phone,tablet and also cloud backups."
Her stomach dropped. "When?"
"Started twelve minutes ago."
"That's impossible," she said. "My phone's been off."
"Yes," he replied. "Which means they're not pinging it."
She swallowed. "They're pinging me."
"They're looking for the pattern you left behind," Ethan said. "Digital shadows,purchase histories,location tags and even metadata you didn't even know you were creating."
She stared at the screen. "Can they find me?"
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Not precisely."
"But—"
"They can narrow," he finished.
A chill slid down her spine.
"So what happens now?" she asked.
Ethan straightened. "Now we move."
Her head snapped up. "Move where?"
"Somewhere less predictable."
"This apartment—"
"Is no longer quiet," he said.
"But that doesn't mean I don't get to brush or take my bath." Ava said.
"You will get to do that when we move to somewhere safer."
" I have to at least brush my teeth..."
As if summoned by the words,a sharp loud sound cracked through the room.
Ava froze mid-sentence.
"What was that?" she whispered.
Ethan was already moving.He crossed the apartment in three silent strides, hand lifting—not to draw a weapon, but to signal her to stay still. He tilted his head, listening.
A soft scrape like metal against brick sounds out again.
Ava's pulse thundered. "Ethan—"
"Stay here," he said quietly.
He moved toward the window, easing the blinds aside just enough to see,then his posture changed.
"Someone's on the fire escape," he said.
Her breath caught. "Are they trying to get in?"
"Not yet."
The scrape came again—closer this time.
A shadow passed briefly over the thin line of light beneath the window frame.
Ava's chest tightened painfully. "They found me."
Ethan didn't answer, instead he turned, eyes locking onto hers with sudden intensity.
"Listen to me," he said. "Whatever happens in the next sixty seconds, you do exactly what I say."
Her voice trembled despite her effort. "You're scaring me."
"Good," he said softly. "That fear keeps you alive."
A knock sounded again.Three short raps against glass.
Ava's breath hitched. "Who knocks like that?"
"Someone who wants to be let in," Ethan replied.
Her hands curled into fists. "Ethan…"
He moved between her and the window, body a shield without question.
"I need to see," he murmured.
He approached the window slowly, drawing the blind back just enough to look out.Ava watched his face change as he unlocked the window.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
The window slid open and a man stumbled forward, half-falling into the room, breath ragged, eyes wild.
Ethan caught him before he could hit the floor, hauling him inside and slamming the window shut behind them.
The man gasped as he raised his hands instinctively. "I'm not armed. I swear."
Ava backed away, heart racing. "Who is he?"
The stranger dragged a hand through his hair, panic bleeding through exhaustion.
"My name doesn't matter," he said hoarsely. "But if you don't let me stay, I'm dead."
Ethan's grip tightened. "You were being followed."
"Yes," the man said. "By the same people chasing her."
Ava's blood ran cold. "How do you know me?"
"I don't," he said quickly. "But they asked about you. They showed me your picture."
Silence crashed into the room.Ethan's eyes flicked to Ava,then back to the man.
"Who are they?" Ethan demanded.
The man swallowed hard. "I don't know names but I know methods. They don't threaten and they don't rush."
Ava's voice shook. "Why were they chasing you?"
"Because I asked the wrong question," he said. "About a logistics anomaly and a closed-loop shipment that shouldn't exist."
Ava's knees went weak as she heard those words.
Ethan released the man slowly. "Sit."
The man collapsed into the chair, shaking.
Ava looked at Ethan. "It's connected."
"Yes," he said grimly.
The man laughed weakly. "You think you're hiding," he said. "But you're not invisible anymore."
A sudden pounding echoed from the stairwell below.
Ethan turned off the lamp in one swift motion, plunging the room into the half-darkness of the morning.
"Get behind me," he told Ava.
She obeyed without argument.
Ethan's jaw set as he glanced down at Ava.
"They're here," he said quietly.
Her throat tightened. "I never wanted this."
"I know," he said."But I'm not stepping away and from now on," he said, eyes hard, voice calm, "they come through me first."