But standing there, watching strangers feel what I had made, I realized the title had been in my body all along.
“Sanctuary,” I heard myself say.
Connor’s hand tightened at my back.
The word meant something in this room and in his.
And in me.
Later, after the gallery lights dimmed and Élodie finally released me with a clipped “Go home,” Connor and I returned to The Sanctuary.
It felt different now. Not just a refuge from danger.
A home base.
A place where I could continue to evolve and grow.
When we stepped inside, Ellsworth appeared like he always did—quietly, impeccably, as if he’d been part of the architecture all along.
He looked at my face—at whatever glow still sat on my skin—and something like satisfaction flickered briefly in his eyes.
“Congratulations, Miss Zee,” he said.
“Thank you,” I replied, and I meant it. Not just for tonight, but for everything he’d put into place so I could have it.
“Tea?” he asked, as if we hadn’t outrun death this week. As if the world could still contain ordinary rituals.
Connor glanced at me.
I nodded. “Tea,” I said, smiling a little. “Yes.”
Ellsworth disappeared.
Connor and I climbed the stairs.
Halfway down the hallway, my phone vibrated in my hand—soft, deliberate, impossible.
I froze.
“There’s no signal in here,” I said automatically.
Connor glanced at the screen, then back to me. “Ellsworth enabled a line,” he said quietly. “Filtered. Just for what matters.”
I hesitated, then saw my mother’s name.
Something tugged at me—soft and sharp at once.
I answered.
“Hi,” I said quietly.
There was a pause on the line, the kind that used to fill me with dread. The kind that always meant I’d have to manage her mood like a weather system.
But her voice when she spoke was … better.
“Mila,” she said. “Hi.”
She sounded awake. Not bright, exactly. But present.
