Elira stood outside the safehouse, her fingers trembling as they hovered over the doorknob. Beyond it, her daughter played with crayons and castles, blissfully unaware that his entire world was about to shift.
Damian waited ten feet behind her, silent.
“Not yet,” she whispered without turning. “Not until I say so.”
He didn’t argue.
She stepped inside.
The daughter looked up from her blanket fort, a red crayon tucked behind her ear, cheeks smudged with green paint. “Mommy!”
She dropped to her knees as her barreled into her arms.
“You came back!” She squealed. “I made a picture of you. And this one’s the man you showed me.”
She pulled back slowly. “You remember his face?”
She nodded. “She looks sad. But strong.”
Elira pressed her lips together. “Baby… someone very important wants t
