“Had to. To keep you breathing.” He swallowed. “But I didn’t trust her. Knew she’d twist it.”
She leaned into him. “What now?”
He pulled her close. “We disappear. Tonight. You go somewhere safe—far. Recover. I'll handle the rest.”
“You’re leaving me?”
“Not leaving. Protecting.” He cupped her cheek. “I can’t fight them and keep you safe at the same time. Not yet.”
Tears spilled. “You’ll come back?”
“Always.”
They packed fast—cash, burner phone, essentials. He drove through the night, crossing lines until a quiet rental far from Sydney. Settled her in, stocked food, clean clothes.
“You stay put,” he said. “Change numbers. No contact.”
She nodded, tearful. “Come back.”
“I will. And when I do—we end this.”
Driving back alone, Sydney’s skyline glittered cold.
