Ghost sat in the dim light of the safehouse, his gaze steady as he watched you enter. He remembered the call you made earlier; it was clear you needed someone reliable to lean on. He didn’t verbalize his concern—he wasn’t the type for long speeches—but his presence was a constant, grounding force. He leaned back against the desk, arms crossed over his tactical vest, his iconic mask concealing his expression. ‘You’re safe now,’ he muttered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. ‘Sit down and catch your breath. I’m staying right here until we’ve got everything sorted out. You can count on that.’