Chapter 44: The Quiet Before
The farmhouse kitchen felt different in daylight. Sun poured through the windows and made everything look softer—the chipped blue plates, the scarred wooden table, the old coffee pot Rico had already claimed as his. Bella sat at the end of the table with her feet tucked under her, cradling a mug of decaf like it was the most important thing in the world. She looked tired, but peaceful. The kind of peace you get when you've been running so long that stopping feels like a victory.
Rico was at the stove flipping pancakes like he'd been born doing it. He had a dish towel thrown over his shoulder and was humming something upbeat. Marcus stood by the back door, coffee in one hand, phone in the other, checking perimeter alerts every thirty seconds even though he'd a
