Chapter 6 - Dawn on the River
Twenty miles outside the city, hidden deep within the dense pine forests bordering the New Hampshire state line, sat an old, abandoned forestry station that looked like it had been forgotten by time.
The engine of the SUV cut out with a soft ping, leaving us in absolute silence except for the gentle rustle of pine needles in the morning wind.
Inside the cabin, the heater hummed quietly. The twins were fast asleep again, wrapped safely in clean blankets we had grabbed from the brownstone’s emergency supplies.
I sat in the front passenger seat, holding a first-aid kit I had raided from the vehicle's compartment, carefully cleaning and bandaging the ugly bullet graze along Daniel’s ribs.
"You're a terrible patient," I muttered, pressing a sterile gauze pad against his side.
Daniel winced, letting out a breath that sounded half like a groan and half like a laugh. "And you're the most stubborn, reckless civilian I've ever met in my life."
"Civilians don't usually throw cast-iron skillets at elite mercenaries," I retorted, though a small smile broke across my face.
He looked at me then, his hard blue eyes softening into something quiet, steady, and deeply sincere. The terrifying mafia operative was gone, replaced by a father who had just stared down an empire to keep his daughters safe.
"Vance won't stop looking," Daniel said quietly. "Even with the fallback server destroyed, men like him have long memories and deep pockets. If you stay with us, you'll be running too."
I finished taping the bandage, packed away the medical supplies, and leaned back against the seat, turning to look out the frosted windshield as the first rays of golden morning sunlight broke over the treetops.
"I spent my whole life in foster homes, Daniel," I said softly, my voice steady for the first time in twenty-four hours. "I never had a family. I never had a home. But last night, in that alleyway... when I heard those babies crying, I chose this. And I don't run from my choices."
Daniel stared at me for a long moment, the quiet tension between us dissolving into something warm and permanent. He reached out, gently placing his hand over mine.
May you like
"Then I guess we stay together," he whispered.
Outside, the sun climbed higher into the sky, burning away the last shadows of the Boston night, marking the first day of a brand-new war—and a brand-new life.
