Sonia couldn’t help but wonder if the world beyond this small cabin would ever feel normal again. The safe house sat on the edge of a thick forest, its old timber frame creaking every time the wind picked up. She pressed her palm against the cold glass of the window, staring at the mist curling like smoke through the trees. The memory of Daxton’s halls, the screams, the stench of burning, clung to her like a second skin.
Behind her, Rivers hunched over the table, a scowl etched deep into his features. He was sorting through the stolen files from Daxton some yellowed with age, others crisp and marked with the Blackbourne seal. His eyes were bloodshot, but he refused to slow down. His fingers traced each page like they might hold the key to everything they’d fought for.
Silas stood near th
