Chapter Nineteen: Don't Try to Understand Me

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No one moved for a moment.

The photo sat on the screen like a warning none of them could ignore. A timestamp in the corner read just under three minutes ago.

Frankie still hadn't sat down.

She stood with her hands braced on the table, jaw tight, unreadable.

"Frankie," Bob said softly, "this isn't just surveillance. This is... it's personal."

She didn't look at him.

"It means they're close," Yelena added. "Like too close."

Bucky took a step forward. "You don't have to handle this alone."

Frankie's eyes snapped to his.

"I've always handled it alone."

John raised a hand halfway. "Yeah, but maybe this time you-"

"Don't," she cut in, voice sharp. "Don't finish that sentence."

Ava crossed her arms, clearly irritated. "We came all this way. Risked tracking you. Broke into your panic room-"

"And now you're here," Frankie interrupted. "Which means you've just been added to whatever crosshairs I've been dodging for months."

She turned away, grabbing a tactical case and slamming it open on the table. Inside-knives, a sidearm, a burner phone, and a map with routes already marked.

Yelena took a step forward. "Look, none of us are great at the whole emotions thing, but you don't have to pretend this isn't-"

Frankie didn't turn around.

"I'm not pretending."

She loaded a clip into the pistol and snapped the slide into place.

"I'm focused."

Bob opened his mouth, about to say something else-something kind, probably-but she beat him to it.

"Don't waste kindness on me."

Her voice was flat. Final.

"I'm not built to receive it."

She snapped the case shut.

"I'm built to survive."

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