The lights were low. Moonlight streamed through the windows, painting silver streaks across the floor. And there, curled in the center of our massive bed, my Tiger slept.
Nyomi.
My heart clenched at the sight of her.
She lay on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, her braids fanned across the pillow. The sheets had slipped down to her waist, revealing the soft curve of her shoulder and the elegant line of her neck.
Beautiful.
So fucking beautiful it hurt to look at her.
Sako's father had wept the entire time. Quiet tears streaming down his weathered face as his son confessed to years of betrayal and began spitting out every name.
The old man hadn't said a word.
Hadn't begged or pleaded.
Just wept and shook his head.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
Stop. Stop. They’re dead. It's done. Stop.
When I opened them again, I focused only on Nyomi. Let her steady breathing become my anchor. Let her warmth pull me back from the edge of whatever pit I was falling into.
I moved closer, my bare feet silent on the floor.
On the nightstand beside her, a book lay open and face-down. I recognized the cover immediately.
When the Dragon Swallowed the Moon.
She must have been reading it before she fell asleep.
Waiting for me to return.
For the first time in hours, a smile tugged at my lips—small, private, nothing like the cold mask I'd worn in the prison.
How far did you get, naughty Tiger?
I picked up the book carefully and placed it aside.
Then I reached into my pocket and set a small velvet box on the nightstand.
Her gift for saving my life tonight.
Tora, how will I ever thank you enough?
I slipped into bed beside her, and the mattress dipped beneath my weight. She stirred slightly but didn't wake—just shifted closer, her body instinctively seeking my warmth even in sleep.
Mami's hand had been trembling too, right before I set her on fire.
Reaching toward me.
Telling me how much she loved me.
I shoved that away and reached for one of Nyomi's braids, winding it around my finger. The texture was soft.
This is real. My Tiger is real. You are here, not there. It is over.
