The night before the mission, Sasha's father appeared at her door.
She opened it to find him leaning on his cane, exhausted from the walk, but alive. Real. Here.
"Dad?" The word still felt strange in her mouth. "What are you doing here? It's not safe—"
"Nowhere is safe anymore." He limped inside, and she guided him to her desk chair. "Luc brought me. Said you were leaving tomorrow. I needed to see you."
Sasha sat on the edge of her bed, facing him. "I was going to come say goodbye."
"I know. But I needed to give you something first." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch, worn smooth with age. "This was your mother's. She left it with me before... before."
Sasha took it carefully. Untied the drawstring.
Inside was a necklace—a thin silver chain with a small
