Luna's POV
I leave Ashton to shower and change, the corridor still faintly warm from the weight of everything we've just said to each other. There isn't time to sit with it properly, not yet . . . not with the question I asked him still circling, unanswered, in the back of my mind.
The security office is tucked down a service corridor near the staff entrance, the kind of place most people walk past without a second glance. I knock twice before letting myself in, and the guard behind the desk, older, greying at the temples, a mug of coffee gone cold beside his keyboard, glances up with mild surprise.
'Miss Reeves.' He straightens slightly. 'What can I do for you?'
There it is again . . . Miss Reeves . . . like we’ve been acquaintances for a few years, nodding in the hall as we pass . .
