The Brooklyn Bridge Park at dawn glowed with the first pink light of morning, mist rising off the East River like soft vapor. Lena Rivers and Damien Blackwood stood side by side on the promenade, bundled against the chill. Between them, Max darted along the railing, reaching out to touch the dew‑sparkled cables overhead.
Damien inhaled deeply. “You look tired."
She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “It's been… a lot." She glanced at the little boy, whose laughter echoed against the granite embankment. “But I'm ready."
Max skidded to a halt. “Mommy, look—ferry boats!"
Lena smiled, turning to Damien as Max scampered off. “I thought you said one hour to sign the papers?"
He checked his watch. “We have twenty minutes." He reached into his coat and produced two blue folders embossed with
