ONE
Morgan
LAST CHRISTMAS MORNING
My lungs ached.Every breath was a fight.
But I wouldn’t stop. It didn’t matter if every cop in Chicago was chasing me down.
The only thing that mattered was the baby in my arms.
Gabbi. My daughter.
She was crying hard, and her tiny fists punched at the air, her cheeks raw from the wind. I clutched her to my chest, trying to shield her from the night, shaking so violently I nearly dropped her. Snow stuck to her blanket, making it wet and heavy, but I couldn’t stop to fix it. Couldn’t stop at all.
I didn’t look over my shoulder. I’d seen enough. Gabbi’s mom was dead. Addicts had already pushed past me, grabbing whatever was left. Someone called the cops. I left. There was nothing there for my daughter or me.
The card was creased in my pocket, half torn, the edges soft from being handled too many times.Guardian Hall. No questions. Veterans welcome.It was all I had. I didn’t even know if the address was still good. Didn’t care. My legs carried me oninstinct, out of the dead streets and toward the faint glow of the city’s edge. My vision blurred, not sure if it was exhaustion or tears.
“Just hold on,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Please.” I tightened my grip on her, adjusting her against my chest so her face was tucked under my chin. She was warm. Still breathing. “I’m gonna get you help.” Her cries quieted to little hiccups, which terrified me more than the sound itself. She was so light. Too light. My jacket wasn’t enough to keep either of us warm. The cold crawled into my bones, and every step sent fire through my legs. I’d been walking for hours—days maybe—it all blurred together.
Then I saw it.
Light.
Somewhere safe.
Guardian Hall. Big old brick building, windows glowing. My heart stuttered. I forced myself forward, up the steps, and banged my fist against the door. This was worse than anything I’d seen in the war—worse than the bodies, the smoke, the sound of men pleading to live. This was a horror I couldn’t leave behind. If I lost Gabbi…
If anything happened to my daughter…
For a heartbeat, there was nothing, and then the porch light flickered, and the door opened. A tall man stood there, and he would see the baby in my arms, the dirt on my hands, the wildness in my eyes.
“Please,” I croaked. “She won’t stop crying. I don’t know what to do.”
The man didn’t hesitate. “Come in. My name is Alex.”
The warmth hit me and I staggered forward, boots dragging, clutching Gabbi. I sucked in a breath, the heat stinging my lungs, and blinked hard, trying to get my bearings. The door shut, the sudden quiet making my breath catch. Words wouldn’t come.My mouth opened, but only a rasp escaped. Gabbi whimpered against my chest, and panic tore through me. The man—Alex, I thought he’d said—stepped closer, his expression sharpening.
“Hey, look at me,” he said evenly. “Can I take the baby?”
I shook my head violently. “No. Please—no.” My fingers tightened on her blanket. “She needs me.”
Alex kept his distance, palms open, sending a quick nod to another man beside him. I froze, alert, tracking every movement the other man made. What was he doing? Where was he going? My heart hammered, and I shifted my stance, ready to bolt if I had to. Alex lifted one hand, voice low but firm. “That’s Jazz. Okay. He’s just getting our doc, all right? He’s coming to help. No one’s taking her away.”
“Help her,” was all I could manage. My mind was a storm of panic and exhaustion, every instinct screaming to protect her even as I didn’t know how. The room blurred around me—Alex moving closer, careful and steady, his voice grounding me. “She’s okay. A doctor is on his way. You did the right thing bringing her here. All right, easy. We just want to help. Let me see her, we’ll get her warm.” His voice was calm, but there was command in it, something solid I could cling to while my world crumbled.
“I can’t…”
Another figure appeared—a man shorter than the first, quick, focused, streaks of pink in his hair catching the light.
“I’m Marcus,” the new arrival murmured, “I’m a doctor. Can I help?”
I could barely get the words out. “I had your card. Said you help veterans. No q-questions.” I was shivering so hard my teeth clattered, the cold and the shock rattling through me. I tried to speak, but the words tangled in my head. Every instinct screamed to keep talking, to stay alert, but all I could think about was Gabbi’s small body in my arms, and whether shewas still breathing. “I’m… was… I am…” I shook my head to clear the disorientation. “Corporal Morgan Armitage. This is my daughter.”
Alex nodded at me. “No questions,” he said. “Marcus here can take a look at her.”
The doctor moved closer, his eyes scanning Gabbi, then flicking to mine.
