Phoenix steps through first. His expression is calm, but there’s something sharp beneath it. Behind him… The kid.
Tall. Lean. Black hair tousled just enough to be deliberate. He’s got that James Dean thing going on, strung out on quiet intensity with a look that says he could vanish into shadow and no one would notice until it was too late. But what grabs me isn’t the attitude. It’s his eyes. Wide, wary. Scanning the room, taking in every exit.
He’s not a kid anymore. He’s Felix now. But I know him. I knew him when he was Jared. I knew him when he was just a scared boy clinging to Cornelius’ hand, still smelling of crayons and fear. He was supposed to be safe. His gaze snags on me. His whole body goes still.
“Kai?” His voice is barely above a whisper.
I swallow hard. “Yeah,” I rasp. “Yeah, it’s me.”
The papers in his hand drop to the floor. He doesn’t run to me. Doesn’t speak again. Just stands there, stunned by the sightof me, his foundation splintering—new name, new life, this job, this place—cracking beneath him.
Phoenix watches him carefully, then steps aside, giving him space.
Felix doesn’t move toward me, not yet. But I see it. His fingers twitch with the urge to close the distance. His jaw tightens. Then… he does the one thing that wrecks me. He blinks fast. He’s trying not to cry.
Candace steps closer to me, a silent support. Amelia’s eyes shine too, but she doesn’t speak. She just crosses her arms, holds her breath in a stillness so complete it threatens to shatter.
“You changed your name,” I finally say, my voice rougher than I mean it to be.
“Didn’t want them to find me,” Felix says. “Didn’t want them to find her.”
My gaze shifts to Amelia, then back to him. “You saved her?”
He nods, slowly. “I started fighting here. Just trying to survive. I didn’t know Phoenix ran this place at first. But when I found out who he was and what he could do…” His throat bobs. “I asked him to help me find her.” My heart beats so loud I can barely hear the rest. “And he did.”
Phoenix steps forward then. Not intruding. Just… present. “Your brother never stopped fighting for her,” he says. “He risked everything. Every contact. Every resource. He didn’t give a damn what it cost.”
Felix swallows hard and finally,finally, takes a step closer to me. “You were supposed to come back,” he says. “Cornelius said we’d be safe. He said you’d find us.”
“I tried.” My voice cracks. “But I got there too late. I didn’t know where they took you. I didn’t know if you were safe… or being hurt. But I never stopped looking.”
Felix lunges forward and grabs me in a hard, sudden hug. It’s not graceful. Not clean. It’s all elbows and pain and years ofsilence breaking open similar to a dam bursting. I hold on. For the boy he was. For the man he became. And for the family we thought we lost.
His chest shudders against mine. Mine isn’t much steadier. For a minute, we just breathe, clinging to each other with desperation that says the world might fall apart again if we let go.
Amelia edges closer. Candace doesn’t speak, but her hand drifts toward mine again. Tentative, warm, steady. I take it without looking, without speaking. Just anchor to her, too.
The four of us, scarred and shaken, but still standing, fill the room with something I haven’t felt in years. Hope. Raw and jagged and new.
Chapter 61
Candace
Thewarehousefeelsdifferentnow. The air feels split at the seams, releasing everything it’s been holding back. Grief, memory, sorrow, uncoils into the room in slow tendrils of smoke from a long-smothered fire. The tension’s still there, anchored in the corners and in the way Malachi keeps glancing between Amelia and Felix, but it’s softer now. Raw, not sharp. Healing, maybe.
The floor creaks beneath our feet, exhaling, the old bones of this place settling beneath the weight of everything that just happened. The smell of oil and sweat still clings to the walls, but beneath it, there’s something newer, faint lavender, maybe. Clean, unfamiliar. The warehouse is learning how to breathe again.
I stay close to Malachi, letting my hand brush his when it feels the weight might pull him under again. His skin is warm, callused, his knuckles still split from a fight he won’t talk about.He hasn’t said much since Felix hugged him, but his shoulders are straighter now. Still tense, but not crumbling. When I steal a look at his face, I can see it the flicker of peace trying to take root beneath the storm.
Felix clears his throat, looking between all of us. “I’m not going back,” he murmurs.
Malachi tenses beside me. “Felix—”
“I can’t. Not yet.” Felix’s voice is calm but resolute. “This… this is the only place I’ve ever had any control. I built something here, Kai. I’m not done building it.”
A flicker of heat pulses in Malachi’s jaw. He doesn’t argue, but I can see the war behind his eyes. The same inner war that rages every time someone chooses a path of blood and grit over the future he believes they’ve earned.
Phoenix steps forward, silent but solid. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t need to. The way Felix looks at him, shoulders squared, chin lifted, it’s clear. He’s found someone he respects. Maybe even someone who’s given him purpose when the rest of the world just tried to forget he existed.
