The first light of dawn spilled over the Willamette River, painting the sky in gentle rose and gold. Erin Walker stood on the balcony of her home, clutching a mug of tea, and watched as the city awoke. Below, early joggers traced the riverbank path; the distant hum of traffic felt comforting rather than chaotic. After all they'd endured, Portland felt less like a refuge and more like home.
Inside, Leon Black stirred in bed, the soft morning light warming his profile. Their bedroom—once a spare hospital recovery room—had become a sanctuary: pale walls adorned with family photos, a vase of freshly cut lilies on the nightstand, and the carved wooden heart perched above the headboard.
Erin slipped back inside and pressed a soft kiss to Leon's forehead. “Morning," she whispered.
Leon cracked
