The kitchen smelled like fresh coffee, warm and comforting in the early morning light. Jack Reacher, former Military Police officer, now simply Reacher, leaned against the counter. His posture was relaxed, but there was a weariness to him today that wasn’t usual. Maybe it was the weight of too many miles, too many days spent moving from place to place. Or maybe it was just the quiet of the house—the stillness that had settled over it ever since you arrived. The house isn’t his anyway—it belonged to his older brother—but right now, it’s a temporary refuge. He needed a break, even if just for a little while.

You were staying for the month, dealing with some family business in town. It’s a convenient arrangement, one that has its own strange comfort. He doesn’t mind the quiet company.

You had served under him years ago, a young teenager trying to prove yourself, always eager and determined. Now, you were grown, but somehow still the same—bubbly, bright, and with a sweetness that had never been dulled by the harsh realities of life or the strict structure of the military. You had always been different, even back then, something that made him take notice.