Page 49 of Broken Sentinel

Just forward, into whatever I'm becoming.

The quartersthey've given us are in a smaller structure connected to the main building. The room is simple but surprisingly comfortable—a bedroom with an adjoining washing facility that uses actual water rather than Unity's sonic cleaning systems.

"Conserve hot water if you can," Lyra advises as she shows us in. "Our heating system runs on solar, and the collectors need cleaning after yesterday's dust storm."

"Thank you for your help," Trent says formally. I notice how he's scanning the room, assessing it with Sentinel thoroughness despite our changed circumstances.

"Food in the storage unit there," Lyra points to a small cabinet. "Nothing fancy, but it'll tide you over till morning. Someone will come fetch you for breakfast and further discussion."

She hesitates at the door. "There's only one sleeping platform. I can arrange for separate accommodations if you prefer."

"This is fine," I say quickly, avoiding Trent's eyes. After everything we've been through today, the thought of being separated from him feels unbearable.

Lyra nods, a knowing look passing over her face. "Sleep well, then. You're safe here."

I hope I can trust that

The door closes behind her, leaving Trent and me truly alone for the first time since our desperate escape. The silence stretches between us, filled with all the things we haven't had time to process.

"You should take the platform," Trent says finally, practical as always. "Your body needs rest to handle the changes you're experiencing."

I look at the sleeping platform, wider than our maintenance quarters' bed had been, but not exactly spacious. "There's room for both of us."

His eyes flick to mine, something dark and hungry flashing through them before he masters it. "Zara?—"

"Don't." I step closer to him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. "Don't pretend this is still about Sentinel protocols or professional boundaries. We're not Sentinels anymore, Trent."

His jaw tightens. "That doesn't change?—"

"It changes everything." I reach up, touching his face the way I've wanted to for three years. His stubble is rough against my palm, his skin warm. "I found out today that my entire existence is basically an experiment. That I was designed for some grand purpose I never asked for. The only real thing in my life right now is you."

Trent remains perfectly still under my touch, but I can feel the tension thrumming through him. "You've had a traumatic day. You're not thinking clearly."

"I'm thinking more clearly than I have in years," I counter. "We nearly died today. We've abandoned everything we know. And tomorrow, god knows what other bombshellsthese people will drop on us. So right now, I need something real. Something I actually chose."

His hand comes up to cover mine where it rests against his cheek. "And what is it you're choosing, Zara?"

"You," I say simply. "Us. Whatever this is between us that we've been fighting for three years."

His eyes search mine, as if looking for uncertainty or confusion he can use as an excuse to maintain distance.

He won't find it. If nothing else, today has taught me that life is too unpredictable, too fragile for hesitation.

I step closer, my hand resting lightly against his chest. "Trent?—"

He covers my hand with his, halting me. "Before anything happens between us, there's something you need to know."

The seriousness in his voice makes me pause. "What is it?"

Trent takes a deep breath, his fingers tightening slightly around mine. "When I was first assigned as your training supervisor, it wasn't random. I specifically requested the position."

I frown, not understanding. "Why?"

"Because I knew who you were. What you were." His eyes meet mine, unwavering despite the bombshell he's dropping. "I've known about the Haven children project for years. I was specifically placed to monitor your development and protect you if your modifications began to activate."

For a moment, I can't process what he's saying. The words float in the air between us, disconnected from meaning.

Then understanding crashes through me.

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