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Rose felt a surge of protest rise within her. "I want to see Harry," she insisted, her voice quivering and then growing stronger. "After everything, I need to."
Kenan's expression was sympathetic but unyielding. "He can't come back, Rose. We have protocols for a reason. We can't compromise the safety of everyone here. That would mean you can’t come back either."
"I understand," Rose shot back, her decision made in the space of a heartbeat. "Then I'm going with Mick. I need to see Harry, to tell him...”
“Tell him what?” Mick asked, looking confused.
Rose's mind was set. She knew what she needed to do. "Harry thinks he doesn't deserve to live, that he should have done more when Nathaniel and I were captives. I need to look him in the eye and tell him he did everything possible and we’d be nowhere without him. I want him to hear that from me.”
Kenan took a moment to process her words. "If you leave with Mick, you can't come back until this is resolved. Until it's safe again. It’s up to you. I can make sure Nathaniel is looked after. Whatever happens here, he’ll be in my charge directly."
Rose nodded, her gaze steely with resolve. "I owe Harry this. He's risked everything for us. I feel like I’ve got a second chance to do it, and I won’t get a third.”
Without waiting for a response, Rose followed Mick out the door, her mind filled with images of Harry—bruised, battered, but alive. This was a chance she had to take, a debt of gratitude she needed to repay. Nathaniel was safe. And she knew in her heart they would be back here before long. Good would win. She was finally starting to believe that.
The goodbye to her son was the hardest of her life. She was grateful for the children laughing and playing tag in the wideopen common room. His rush to get back to them, to laugh and play, made him nearly oblivious to her leaving. That didn’t sting. It was more of a healing balm. Seeing her child happy was unmatched in its ability to sooth her. Rose could take on the world if Nathaniel was joyful.
CHAPTER 19
Harry sat quietly in the corner of the small house, the atmosphere thick with a tension seeming to seep into the very walls. The people who had taken him in were visibly on edge, their eyes constantly flitting to the windows, their bodies tensed for any sign of trouble. They all knew those who had held Harry captive would not give up so easily; his escape was a loose end they would be desperate to tie up.
The door creaked open, and a man stepped in, the brim of his hat clutched tightly in his hands, his face ashen. Everyone in the room turned to look at him, their unease growing at the sight of his evident fear.
"There's been... a body found," the man stammered, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "On the outskirts, on a back road. A man, shot in the head."
A collective gasp filled the room, and Harry felt a cold chill run down his spine. He rose to his feet, his injuries protesting with sharp jabs of pain.
“Was it a local?” he asked with a wince.
“No,” the man reported. “One of the Americans, I think. I saw him in town once with the man who was causing us so many problems.”
“Why would they kill their own man?” Gio asked, furrowing his brow.
"I think I know why.” The room fell silent, all eyes on Harry as he recounted the tale of the one guard who had shown mercy, who had seen a glimmer of right in a world gone wrong and acted on it. "He didn't agree with the others, didn't think I deserved to die for what I knew. He let me go," Harry explained, his throat tight with unspoken emotion. “They killed him for it.”
A sense of grim understanding settled over those gathered. They knew the cost of such defiance in the face of evil. "You think he was killed for helping you?" one of the men asked, his voice worried. “Like we are.”
Harry nodded, his expression somber. "Yes. I should go. I can walk. I don’t want anyone else to die.”
In that moment, Harry couldn't help but reflect on his own path, the countless times he had found himself straddling the line between right and wrong. He had been in that guard's shoes, making choices that could easily have led to his own end. The realization he had narrowly escaped that fate countless times before was not lost on him.
The man clinging to his hat finally looked up, his eyes meeting Harry's. "It was not far from here. Thirty minutes down the road.”
"Yes," Harry acknowledged, his voice a low murmur. "More reason I should go.”
“Someone is coming,” a young man looking out the window said in a hushed whisper. “A man and a woman.”
“A woman?” Harry asked, shuffling over toward the window. He blinked hard, thinking she might evaporate if he looked too closely. Slip out of his life again. “Rose,” he whispered.
“You know them?” Gio asked, looking worried for everyone in the room.
“Yes. They’re with me. That’s Mick and Rose. Let them in, quickly.” Harry tried to stand as tall as he could even though the pain in his ribs was throbbing. He couldn’t think of a single scenario where it made sense for Rose to come. She’d have been safe at Verde Lago. Behind the gates and the guards. Why would they send her out here? Then it hit him, they didn’t send her, she came on her own. Probably against their warnings. She knew he was alive. How she felt about that was anyone’s guess, but he knew he was about to find out.
The moment Rose saw Harry, her face lit with relief. He had his answer. She rushed to him, her concern for his injuries momentarily overshadowing the joy of their reunion.
"Harry," Rose said, her voice thick with emotion. "They told me you were dead. I mourned you. I didn’t know you were alive. I’d have found a way to talk to you. To tell you...”
Mick, standing a step behind, cleared his throat, his gaze shifting to the ground before meeting Harry's. "We've got trouble," Mick interjected. "There's word that more men have flown in. They'll be sweeping the area for Topeka. We need to lead them away from the town and Verde Lago."
