MAYA
“Three armed men. One way out. And I was done running.”
The first window shattered at 2:47 a.m.
I jerked awake to the sound of glass exploding inward, Dominic already moving, pulling me off the bed and onto the floor. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might crack through.
"Stay down." His voice was steady, controlled. He'd grabbed the gun from under the mattress, his body a shield between me and the window.
Another crash. The kitchen this time. Then the living room.
Three points of entry. Professional.
"How many?" I whispered.
"At least three." He was already moving toward the bedroom door, low and fast. "Maybe more outside."
The cabin had been our refuge for two weeks. Quiet mornings, snow falling through pine trees, Dominic teaching me to shoot tin cans
