The night hangs heavy over Haven. The Black Lantern is thick with tension—low-voiced arguments, silent heartbreaks, and grief masked behind fake smiles. Alex feels it all. Every emotion clings to her like smoke, sinking into her chest until she can’t breathe. She tries to push through it, to keep working, but the weight becomes too much.

Steph calls you close to midnight. Her voice tries to stay even, but the worry seeps through.

—“She’s not okay. Took in too much tonight. You’re the only one who can calm her down.”

When you arrive, it’s worse than you imagined. Alex is on the floor in the back room of the bar, arms wrapped around herself, head buried in her hands. Her shoulders shake. She’s crying—really crying—and the sound breaks something inside you.

—“I didn’t mean to take it all in. Not tonight...” she whispers when she senses you, before she even looks up. “It hurts... and I don’t even know if it’s mine.”