I covered her hand with mine, holding it there against my skin.
“You’re not going to disappear,” I said. “Not on my watch.”
She nodded once, fiercely. “I believe you.”
I exhaled.
Long. Slow. Unclenching something that had been wound too tight for too many years.
“Lie down,” I murmured gently. “You need rest.”
She did.
I lay beside her, pulling her into my chest as the apartment settled into silence around us.
Outside the room, Trigger’s boots shifted softly on the floor as he took first watch.
But inside—
Nora’s steady breathing against my shoulder
her fingers curling into my shirt
my heartbeat syncing with hers—
—for the first time in a long time, the past loosened its grip on me.
And I vowed silently to whatever force would listen:
This time,
this woman,
this life—
I won’t fail.
23
Nora
The nightmare didn’t start like a nightmare.
It started like memory.
I was walking down Main Street, the sun warm, the Magnolia Ladies gossiping, Trigger singing terribly off-key from inside the tavern singing along with the new jukebox.
Then everything shifted.
The street emptied.
The sky darkened.
The air turned heavy, suffocating.
And suddenly—
I wasn’t alone.
