4345.90 · March 31, 2025 AD
The Last to Leave
The café settles into evening stillness. Daniel lingers at the corner table, tension visible in his shoulders, phone glowing against his face. Nathan polishes espresso cups and watches. They exchange few words, but something shifts—two men recognising that the other sees more than they're saying. Daniel leaves. Nathan stays. And in the quiet that follows, a displaced ventilation grate confirms what his instincts already knew: someone else has been inside.
The café exhales into evening quiet. Daniel sits at the corner table, phone casting blue light across features etched with concerns that go beyond inventory orders. Nathan cleans the espresso machine and watches from behind the counter, cataloguing the tension in Daniel's shoulders, the way his gaze keeps drifting to the windows.
"You're still on edge," Nathan says.
"You notice everything, don't you?"
The exchange is brief, careful—two men circling the edges of truths neither is ready to share. Daniel offers him an early night. Nathan declines. Something unspoken passes between them, an assessment made, a decision deferred.
Then Daniel leaves, and the café belongs to Nathan alone.
He finishes his routine, movements precise, mind churning. Eight months of observation. Unusual plants. Signature blends. Visitors asking questions with too much precision. And now, in the storeroom, a ventilation grate sitting slightly askew—moved recently, replaced almost perfectly.
Almost.
Someone else has been inside the walls.
Nathan could contact Seth. Could bring Guardian attention to bear. Could follow protocol.
Instead, he locks the door and walks into the Edinburgh night.
He's no longer just watching the Campbells.
He's protecting them.
