The pieces fell into place in my head.
Misato wanted to win. Not for Blair. Not even for the squad. For herself. She needed to prove she could lead, that she was more than just the attack dog who followed Blair's commands or mopped up her messes. Whatever complicated position she held in that Summit House, this was her shot at something separate.
This bet wasn't about me and Blair at all. It was Misato choosing Misato for the first time in probably her entire life.
Belle stood up and rolled her shoulders. Something in her spine cracked loud enough to make Jordan wince.
"Sixteen minutes. I need coffee."
"Get me one," Jordan said without opening his eyes.
"Get your own."
"Please?"
"Ugh. Fine."
They headed out together. Belle's electric blue hair and Jordan's perpetually disheveled brown vanishing through the doorway.
Naomi stayed put in her chair. Her staff still strapped across her back. The shell necklace at her throat sat crooked like she'd been messing with it.
