Colt’s Point Of View
The sun hadn’t risen, but the skyline already burned with the ghosts of the night before. Sirens howled in the distance. Smoke curled over the city like a slow exhale of everything we thought we’d buried. I watched it all from the top floor of Christian Tower—my tower. My name, my legacy. A throne made of concrete, steel… and lies.
Behind me, Krystal slept. Not deeply—her breath caught every few minutes like she was still running—but enough that I couldn’t hear the tremble in her voice when she said, “I think I know where this ends.”
So do I.
Because I knew something she didn’t.
Something I hadn’t had the guts to say.
Something that started long before Phoenix had a name, before Hans broke her heart, before I held a gun to my own brother’s head.
I was never out
