Because Damien spoke.
“What’s his name?”
Not who is he. Not what’s going on.
Just — his name.
Low. Dangerous. Final.
“Dr. Beckett,” Jamie answered.
And she swore the temperature in the car dropped.
He didn’t say anything else.
But he didn’t need to.
When they finally stepped out, she could still feel it — that invisible thread that had wrapped around her spine and pulled tight. She thanked James politely, nodded at Damien, kept her head down.
But when Damien said, “Don’t be late on Monday,” her throat tightened.
Because it wasn’t just a reminder.
It sounded like a warning.. Or a claim.
And she felt it.
All the way through her bones.
⸻
The check-up itself was uneventful. Dr. Brown was kind, thorough, and straight to the point — as always.
Jamie’s blood pressure was stable.
