Something real.
Something unguarded.
“Because it’s you.”
That hits harder than anything else tonight.
My chest tightens.
Not from pain.
From something else entirely.
I don’t look away.
“Yeah,” I whisper.
Because that’s enough.
For now.
48
Clay
We break through.
Barely.
But it’s enough.
“Go!” Lucas shouts.
The kids run.
As fast as they can, with their injuries.
Toward the exit.
I cover them, firing back as hostiles push forward again.
Too many.
But we’re close.
So close.
We hit the outer door—
Burst through—
Cold air slams into us.
Freedom.
Almost.
Gunfire erupts from behind.
