Chapter 23
"f**k," Brea took a sip of her coffee, the bitterness a welcome distraction from her swirling thoughts. She couldn't help but think about the people they'd left behind—the ones who might still be looking for them. The organization's reach seemed vast; she knew they couldn't stay hidden forever. The weight of that knowledge pressed heavily on her, gnawing at the edges of her peace. Brea glanced around the room, taking in their surroundings. The diner had a worn but cosy feel, with red vinyl booths and checkered floors. The smell of frying bacon and fresh coffee permeated the air, mingling with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of cutlery against plates. The boy sat across from her, his tiny hands gripping a fork as he attacked a stack of pancakes with a concentration that bel
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