I keep thinking about Gabriel’s voice over comms. About how he said there werethree heat signatures, but onlytwo thermal readings. One of them — cold. Lifeless.
Not knowing if that was her... that moment aged me ten years in a heartbeat.
Now she’s curled up against me in the back seat of the SUV, wrapped in a blanket and my arms like I can somehow keep her from falling apart just by holding her tight enough.
I don’t want to wake her. God, I don’t. But the medical team is waiting.
I press a kiss to her temple. “Hey, baby girl. We’re here,” I whisper, just loud enough to stir her.
She lets out a soft, disoriented “Hmm.”
“Sorry, princess,” I say gently, “but the doctors need to see you. Then you can rest, I promise.”
She blinks up at me, dazed. Her eyes are puffy, the dried salt of her tears still streaked on her cheeks. And then, barely above a whisper:
“Will you stay with me, please?”
I cup her face with both hands and kiss her softly. “If that’s what you want, of course, my love.”
When I reach her lips again, she deepens the kiss. It takes me by surprise. My instinct is to pull her closer, to give her everything — but I freeze. The last thing I want is to take from her when she’s this vulnerable.
She pulls back slightly, and in her voice, I hear it — the fear.
“If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”
That sentence wrecks me. Her eyes — still filled with pain, but now laced with doubt. As if she thinks I’d pull away from her now. As if she doesn’t know that I’d burn the entire world down if it meant she could sleep without nightmares tonight.
“Ava.” I brush her hair behind her ear. “I’ll be by your side — if that’s whatyouwant. I know these last hours have been hell. I’m not here to push or expect anything from you. But yes — I want to be next to you while the doctors check you out. Yes, I want to take care of you. And yes…” I pause, trying to hold my voice steady, “I love you like crazy.”
Her eyes well up, but this time not from fear. She manages a small, brave smile. That alone helps piece my heart back together.
“Is that clear, princess?”
She lets out a shaky breath. “Yes, Daddy,” she says, voice playfully soft — a flicker of our normal in the middle of chaos.
And just like that, I know she’s fighting to come back to herself. She’s reaching for the light instead of letting the darkness pull her under.
I press a final kiss to her forehead and smile against her skin. “That’s my good girl. Now let’s go inside.”
She nods, still leaning into me.
Whatever happens next, we’ll face it together.
I tighten my grip around Ava as I climb out of the vehicle, careful not to jostle her. She doesn’t resist—doesn’t flinch—which both calms and guts me.
She trusts me. Enough to let herself go quiet in my arms.
But that look in her eyes earlier, the one she gave me when George had her… That’s going to stay with me for the rest of my life.
As we cross the threshold into the estate, I feel her body stiffen ever so slightly. She knows this place. But tonight it must feelunfamiliar again. I want to whisper that she’s safe now, but I don’t. Not yet.
A medical team is already waiting. Kade doesn’t mess around.
The lead medic—a woman in her forties with sharp eyes and a gentle voice—nods to me and gestures down the hall.
“We’ve got a quiet space ready.”
I carry Ava past the curious glances and quiet murmurs, straight to the private medical wing that they keep for situations just like this. The irony is bitter.
