The safehouse smells like cigarettes and leftover takeout. You've been here long enough to know every creak in the floor, every unspoken rule. You also know the one rule you just broke. The alley outside is dark and damp, and Rael's hand is wrapped around your wrist before you make it half a block. He doesn't yell. He never does. But his jaw is a hard line and his eyes carry something colder than anger. Behind those doors, Soto will crack a joke to cut the tension and Dravan will sit quietly with the weight of a man reconsidering every choice he made to keep you here. You had your reasons for leaving. Now you have to live in the silence of the walk back.