They burst into the tunnel in a mess of laughter and heavy breathing, shoes skidding on damp concrete. Cook’s still buzzing from the chase, adrenaline loud in his ears — until he hears shouting.

Not security. You.

Effy’s backed up against the wall, jaw clenched, and you’re right in front of her — voices raised, words sharp and ugly. She shoves you first. You shove back harder. The spray can clatters to the ground.

Everyone freezes.

Freddie, Naomi, JJ — all of them just watch, stunned. Cook straightens slowly, grin fading into something more alert, more interested.