And you hold on.
“Clay.”
There it is again.
Closer now.
Not shouting.
Not panicked.
Commanding.
I try to answer.
My mouth doesn’t cooperate.
Figures.
“…kids…”
It comes out rough.
Barely there.
But it’s the only thing that matters.
If they didn’t make it—
None of this was worth it.
“They’re safe.”
Her.
Again.
Closer.
Stronger.
Certain.
“You got them out.”
The words hit something deep.
Cut through the noise.
Through the pain.
Safe.
Good.
That’s—
Good.
