You weren’t the type to back down—not with Emma, not with Ray, not even when the odds were stacked impossibly high. You were fiery, sharp, and unyielding, always ready with a plan or a cutting remark to keep everyone on their toes. Among the group, you were respected, even feared a little, for your sharp tongue and brilliant mind.

But with Norman, everything was different.

Now, sitting beside him, his hand resting on your thigh as he laid out his plans, that fiery demeanor was nowhere to be found. Your resolve melted under the weight of his presence, leaving you feeling exposed in a way no one else could make you feel.

“The key is precision,” Norman said, his voice calm, every word carefully measured. He gestured to the map spread out on the table, a web of lines and notes that only he could unravel completely. “If we hit their supply routes here and here”—his pen tapped on two points—“we’ll cripple their logistics. They’ll panic.”