Despite the lingering fog from the sedatives, Harper’s moves were steady. She crumpled her discharge papers as she walked beside her father.  

The evaluation had been a formality. Henry's influence had ensured it was brief and favorable.

And the last hour Harper’d spent convincing Henry that she was good enough to make her decisions, still, he was set on taking her with him.

"We'll go straight home. You need rest." Henry said, his hand hovering near her elbow without quite touching. 

“Father, I need to say something." Harper cut in front of him. 

Henry’s expression immediately set off an alarm. "What is it?"

"I appreciate everything you've done, but I don't need to be tucked into bed like I'm recovering from the plague."

Henry's features tightened.

"I want some space." Harper met his eyes. "I know what happened scared you. But I need time to think, to figure out what went wrong."

"Harper. You nearly…" He cut himself off, then continued. "Familiar surroundings might be better right now."

"I admit I have problems," she continued. "I need help. But I also need you to understand that I won't give up. I won't hand my life over to you."

“After what happened…” 

"What happened on that bridge... yes… But I'm taking responsibility for it. For all of it."

When Henry looked at her attentively, Harper saw in his eyes a familiar yearning to protect her by locking her again in his lonely mansion.

"Forgive me if I'm not ready to trust your judgment about being alone."

The words hit Harper like a physical blow, but she forced herself to stand straighter. 

"That's exactly why I need space. I need to figure out why I got to that point."

"Your coping mechanisms are concerning," Henry muttered.

"Mr. Owen?" Ivan's voice interrupted as he approached from behind. He looked more put-together now, having clearly made an effort to clean up. 

Henry's expression immediately hardened. "Mr. Vernon. I believe I thanked you for your assistance last night. Your services here are no longer required."

"I just wanted to make sure Harper got to the car safely," Ivan said carefully.

"How thoughtful." Henry's tone frosted. "Though unnecessary. I'm perfectly capable of ensuring my daughter's well-being without outside interference."

Harper caught the tension escalating and stepped in between. “What's happening here?”

"Nothing's happening," Henry’s eyes showed annoyance above the mask. "Mr. Vernon was just leaving."

Harper turned to Ivan, " Thank you for last night. And for staying."

"Of course." Ivan's eyes met hers briefly.

"Mr. Vernon. Shouldn't you be at the office? Checking everything is going smoothly? Despite recent distractions?" Henry voiced bothered.

Ivan's posture shifted subtly. "Everything's under control. No delays on our end."

"Good." Henry's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'd hate for personal complications to interfere with work."

Harper caught the underlying subtext. "Oh! I need to get my belongings. I left it all…”

"Nothing that concerns you right now," Henry said.

Harper knew that tone. It was the same one he'd used when she was asking too many questions, going through teenage angst.

"Ivan stayed at the hospital because of me," Harper's voice cut through the tension. "If there are problems with the deal, that's on me, not him."

Both men looked at her, surprised by the authority in her tone.

"We'll discuss this at home," he said, moving toward the parking garage.

But before they could take more than a few steps, Henry's phone rang. He glanced at the screen with a darkened expression.

"I need to take this," he said, stepping away from them. "Stay here."

He went into a quiet corner, his voice dropping to the urgent undertone Harper recognized as crisis management mode.

"That doesn't look like a routine business call," Ivan observed.

Harper watched her father pace. "He does look more stressed than usual."

"Your father's got quite the protective streak," Ivan said, attempting diplomacy.

Harper let out a laugh that was equal parts amused and exasperated as she slumped against the wall. "Protective? That's like calling a hurricane 'a bit breezy.'"

Harper leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling the full weight of the last twenty-four hours. 

"He forgets I'm an adult."

"Well, to be fair," Ivan said, "your decision-making track record over the past day has been... let's call it 'adventurous.'"

“'Spontaneous.' It sounds more sophisticated.”

"Ah, yes, spontaneous,” Ivan replied.

“Feeling proud of the dramatic rescue?"

"I think you're giving me too much credit. More like 'guy who happened to be nearby when chaos struck." 

Harper groaned, but there was no real annoyance in it. "I should warn you, my gratitude has an expiration date."

Ivan chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the opposite wall. He was quiet for a moment, then asked. "Are you really okay?"

The question was simple, but Harper heard the genuine concern beneath it. "I'm getting there," she said honestly. "Whatever 'there' looks like."

Ivan cleared his throat. "Should I be witnessing this family therapy session?"

"We just function at high volume.”

"Harper." Henry's voice cut through the moment as he returned, his face grim. "Change of plans."

"What changed?"

Henry pocketed his phone while weighing his words. "I need to handle some... some matters require immediate attention."

Something in his expression told her it wouldn't be that simple.

"So, I'll go home and wait for you to get back." 

"No." Henry's voice was sharp. "You can't be alone right now."

Harper felt a familiar spike of irritation. "I can handle a few hours by myself."

"Not after what happened last night." Henry was already dialing someone. “I'll call my assistant.” 

Harper felt her independence slipping away again.

“I'm sure I can manage not to have any more public situations. Don’t bring someone who’d want to discuss my 'life choices' and redecorate my apartment.”

Henry's call connected. "Clara? It's Henry. I need you to... What do you mean?" A pause. "No, that's not acceptable."

He moved away again, and his voice went to a whisper.

"Okay," Harper said to Ivan, "now I'm officially concerned.”

Henry returned, looking more frazzled. 

"Clara can't come until tomorrow," he said. "And I have to leave in two hours."

"Then I'll stay by myself for the day.”

“You’re not staying by yourself.”

Henry turned to Ivan, and Harper watched her father wage an internal war that lasted about three seconds.

"Mr. Vernon, despite our professional... disagreements, I need to ask you a favor."

"Sir?" Ivan sounded surprised. 

"I need someone to stay with Harper tonight. Someone I can trust to keep her safe."

Harper raised her brow, certain she'd misheard. "You want to leave me with Ivan?"

"I want to make sure you're not alone," Henry corrected. "Mr. Vernon's... did prove himself trustworthy last night."

Harper protested, "You just spent an hour trying to get rid of him."

"Circumstances have changed," Henry said grimly. He looked at Ivan. "Despite my reservations about your... business practices, you proved yourself trustworthy last night. And right now, that's what matters."

"Mr. Owen, I'm not sure I'm the right person for…"

"You're the only person available who knows the situation," Henry interrupted. His phone rang again. "Business can be salvaged. My daughter's safety can't be compromised. I have to go, Harper."

“What's going on?" Harper demanded. 

Henry was already moving toward the exit, phone pressed to his ear.

"Mr. Vernon," he called out, "I'm trusting you with the most important thing in my world. Don't let me down."

And then he was gone, leaving Harper and Ivan staring after him in stunned silence.

"Well," Ivan said finally, "this is awkward."

"Awkward?" Harper turned to look at him. "My father just went from trying to banish you to essentially assigning you as my bodyguard in the span of ten minutes.” 

Ivan stepped closer, and Harper caught a hint of his cologne mixed with the antiseptic smell from the hospital.

"So, about this babysitting arrangement..."

"Poor you," she said, attempting lightness. "Stuck babysitting the emotionally unstable person.”

“Harper." There was something in the way he said her name that made it sound softer.

"I prefer 'protective custody,'" she said. "Makes me sound more dangerous and less pathetic."

"Right. Because nothing says 'dangerous' like a woman who just got discharged from observation."

"Hey!" Harper laughed despite herself. "That's my trauma to joke about, not yours."

"My apologies. I'm new to the whole 'caring for someone with questionable life choices' thing."

"I prefer 'spectacularly catastrophic.'"

"Well," Ivan said with his eyes smiling, "lucky for you, I'm not exactly known for my good judgment either."

"Planning to stick around for more family dysfunction?" 

"Considering your father just conscripted me into protective custody, I might not have a choice."

She nodded.

"We'd need to find another car," Ivan said, stepping back and breaking the spell. "Your father took his. We should go."

As they walked toward the taxi stand, Harper felt the surreal nature of the situation hit her fully.

"So," Ivan said as they settled into the backseat of the taxi, "my place or yours?"