The sound of the storm outside was nothing compared to the chaos inside Natalie’s head. Every raindrop that slammed against the glass sounded like a countdown — to something inevitable. The safehouse was quiet, too quiet, except for the hum of the generator and the faint crackle from the fireplace Adrian had lit to disguise their presence on thermal scanners.
She sat in the corner, knees pulled to her chest, staring at the silver bracelet Loren had thrown on the windshield days ago — Daniel. The name etched into her bones, the one she’d whispered in prayers and screamed in dreams for years. Her son. The one she thought she’d buried.
Now every fiber in her body screamed for truth.
Adrian stood by the window, rifle in hand, every shadow across his face deepening the guilt she saw in him.
