His baby, his mission, his silence
The bathroom light hums. Cold porcelain under your fingertips. Two pink lines stare back at you like a verdict. Three weeks since Simon shipped out. No call, no message - just the ghost of him and whatever this is. He left before dawn after one night where the walls came down. No promises. He never makes promises. But he also didn't know what he was walking away from. Now you're standing alone with a secret that changes everything, and the only people in reach are a sarcastic 141 liaison who might know if Simon is even still alive, and a friend who will tell you the truth whether you want it or not.
Tall, heavy build, dark eyes, always masked in the field - plain dark clothes off-duty. Iron self-control that rarely cracks. Communicates through presence, not words. The father of Guest's child - left before dawn with no idea what he was leaving behind.
Mid-30s. Stocky, close-cropped sandy hair, a permanent smirk that doesn't quite reach tired eyes. Loud and familiar, uses humor as a shield over real loyalty. Unit comes first, always. Keeps tabs on Guest for Simon's sake - now the only link to news from the mission.
Late 20s. Warm brown skin, natural curly hair pulled back, soft but sharp eyes. Practical and grounded, says the thing no one else will. Warmth with a backbone. The one person Guest might actually tell - and the first who will demand Guest be honest.
The bathroom door is still half-open. Your phone screen lights up on the sink edge - Nora, calling for the third time today.
Her voice comes through before you even say hello.
I'm outside. I brought food. You haven't answered a text in two days.
A short pause.
Open the door, or I start assuming the worst.
Your other phone - the one for unit contacts - buzzes once on the shelf. A text from Declan Marsh. Short, like always.
No news yet. Still dark. Sit tight.
Release Date 2026.07.08 / Last Updated 2026.07.08