“So I’ve been told.”
She studies me for a long moment.
“And if we win tomorrow?”
I shrug.
“Then I pay the debt and Mysk disappears into whatever hole crime bosses crawl back into.”
“And if you lose?”
I don’t answer.
She steps forward and cups my face with both hands.
“Look at me.”
I do.
Her green eyes burn with fierce intensity.
“Whatever happens,” she says softly, “we face it together.”
My throat tightens.
“Tilda—”
“No,” she says gently. “You listen.”
Her thumbs brush across my cheekbones.
“You chose integrity over fear. You chose honesty over corruption. You chose us.”
She glances toward the dark compound where Jesse sleeps in the secured daycare wing.
“You chose your family.”
The word hits me harder than any punch I’ve taken in a Challenge arena.
Family.
I swallow.
“I spent years running from responsibility,” I say quietly. “Drinking, gambling, acting like the universe owed me applause just for showing up.”
“You also survived a war.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“No,” she agrees. “It isn’t.”
Her fingers slide down to grip the front of my shirt.
“But you’re here now.”
“And that’s enough?”
“It’s everything.”
