Page 442 of Black Reign

It doesn't matter anymore.

The chase is over.

The other ghost is gone.

Papa has his truth.

And for the first time, I don't need an alias, a wig, a false passport, or an encrypted room to know where I belong.

Beside Xavier.

In the light.

Terrifying.

Perfect.

Unstoppable.

NULL begins tomorrow.

15

Iget two blissful weeks with my wife before my friends ruin everything.

Two weeks.

No Blackwell board.

No ARGUS.

No encrypted threats.

No unidentified network traffic.

No Russians.

No surveillance feeds unless you count the weather station Sabine dismantles on our third day because she thinks its firmware is “embarrassing.”

We honeymoon along the South of France.

Not Monaco.

Not anywhere Blackwell owns enough real estate to turn relaxation into a corporate meeting.

Sabine chooses small places.

Old stone villages.

Markets where she argues over cheese in rapid French and then accuses me of overpaying because I look American when I wear sunglasses.

Tiny restaurants with six tables.

Beaches accessible only by climbing down paths that have absolutely no business being called paths.

One morning, she wakes before sunrise and disappears.

I find her forty minutes later sitting barefoot on a dock eating a croissant while an elderly fisherman attempts to explain to her why his boat engine hates him.