"Ghost won't let it go."
"I know."
"Watch your back, Z. Men like him... they don't forgive. They plan. They wait. They strike when you're comfortable."
"I'm never comfortable."
"Good. Stay paranoid. It'll keep you alive." Another pause. "I gotta go. Phone time's limited. But Z?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm proud of you. The way you fought for them. Kept your Presidency. Built something good out of chaos. You did that. Not me. You."
"Learned from the best."
"Nah. You did this yourself. I just pointed you in the right direction sometimes." His voice gets thick. "Take care of them, Z. They're your legacy now. Not the club. Them."
The line goes dead.
I stand in the hallway, phone in hand, Tommy's words echoing in my head. *They're your legacy now.*
From the bedroom, I hear Lena stirring. From somewhere in Phoenix, Santiago is with Izzy, probably being spoiled beyond reason. Tommy's in prison. Ghost is plotting. The club is stable but fragile. Everything is complicated and dangerous and could fall apart at any moment.
But we're here.
We're alive.
We're trying.
Late afternoon, I get another call. This one I'm expecting.
"Dr. Reeves," I answer. "Good to hear from you."
"Zane. Is Lena available?"
Lena's in the kitchen making actual food for the first time in days—Izzy brought groceries and instructions to "eat something that isn't microwaved." I wave to get her attention, mouth "Dr. Reeves."
She comes over immediately, face doing that thing it does when she's trying to manage expectations. I put the call on speaker.
"Dr. Reeves? It's Lena."
"Lena, good. I wanted to talk to you both about the clinic."
"Is there a problem?" Lena's voice goes tight.
"The opposite. It's ready." Dr. Reeves sounds pleased with himself. "Legal, licensed, properly equipped. Cruz Medical Services is officially operational."
The expression on Lena's face—shock, joy, disbelief all at once.
"You're serious?" she asks.
"Very serious. You completed all the coursework remotely while on bed rest. Passed all licensing requirements. With my oversight, you can now work as a legitimate medical practice. The van's been outfitted with everything you need. You just need to come see it."
"I..." Lena's crying now, one hand over her mouth. "I didn't think it would actually happen."
"It happened. Your dream is real. Come by whenever you're ready. No rush—you're three months postpartum, I know you need time. But when you're ready, Cruz Medical Services is waiting."
After we hang up, Lena just stands there, tears streaming down her face.
