Summer arrived at Haven, bringing warmth and growth.
The gardens flourished. New buildings rose. More hybrids arrived each week—fifty now, then sixty, then seventy. They came from everywhere: cities and small towns, hiding places and prison cells, alone or in small groups. Each with a story. Each with wounds. Each looking for home.
Sasha greeted every single one.
She sat with them, listened to them, held them when they cried. She showed them around Haven, introduced them to others, helped them find their place. It exhausted her, but she couldn't stop. These were her people. Her family. She owed them everything.
"You need to delegate," Maya said one evening, watching Sasha collapse onto a bench. "You can't do this all yourself."
"I know. But they need to see me. To know I'm here." Sash
