MasukVeronica's POVFour stopped eating. I watched him disappear into himself over the following days, his eyes hollow and distant. He sat in the nursery we had painted together, staring at the empty crib like it was a grave. The lavender walls that had seemed so hopeful now felt like a mockery. Every baby item we had carefully chosen felt like a promise we might not be able to keep."This is my fault," he said one night. His voice was flat, dead. "I am cursed. Everything I touch gets damaged. My father damaged me and now I am damaging my daughter before she is even born."The words cut through me like glass. I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but I knew logic would not reach him right now. Fear had wrapped around his heart like a vice and he could not see past it. So instead I knelt in front of him, taking his cold hands in mine, forcing him to look at me."Stop. This is not your fault. Heart defects happen. They are not punishment or karma or curses. They are medical condition
Four's POVI watched Veronica turn Sarah's business card over in her hands for three days straight. She carried it everywhere. Kitchen counter. Bedroom nightstand. Coffee table. The decision haunted her and I understood why. This was not just about her anymore. This was about all of us.We talked about it late at night when Monte was asleep. Veronica curled against my chest while I ran my fingers through her hair. The bedroom was dark except for the streetlight filtering through the curtains. Safe. Quiet. Our sanctuary."What are you thinking?" I asked."That I want to do it. That terrifies me. I do not know if wanting something and being ready for it are the same thing.""They are not always the same. But sometimes you have to jump before you feel ready.""Is that what you did? When you came to find me?""Yes. I was not ready to face you. To confront everything I had done wrong. But I jumped anyway because the alternative was losing you forever."She was quiet for a moment. "The docu
Veronica's POVFour's suspicion about the invitation lingered in my mind like smoke. I could not shake it. That night I called Dr Morrison. Then my parents. Then Margaret. We needed to talk through this together because the decision affected everyone.We gathered in the living room the next evening. Monte was asleep upstairs. Margaret made tea nobody drank it. My parents sat on the couch looking concerned. Four paced by the window. Dr Morrison joined us via video call on Four's laptop."Tell me about the invitation," Dr Morrison said.I read it aloud. Every word. Every detail. When I finished the room was silent.Four spoke first. "My instinct is to say no. We fought for privacy. For safety. For the right to live without eyes on us constantly. This throws all of that away.""But it could help people," I said. "Women trapped like I was. Women who think there is no way out. If my story gives even one of them hope is that not worth it?""Not if it puts Monte at risk.""How does it put Mo
Veronica's POVFour came home from Colombia broken. Not physically. The bruises and cuts healed within days. But something inside him had shattered and I watched the pieces fall every time he closed his eyes. He barely spoke for the first three days. Just held Monte. Stared at the walls. Startled at sudden sounds.I did not push. I had learned through my own healing that trauma needed space before it needed words. So I stayed close. Cooked his favourite meals. Let him know through touch and presence that he was safe. That he was home. Whatever happened in Colombia stayed in Colombia unless he chose to bring it into our lives.Manuel visited on the fourth day. He sat with Four in the backyard while I watched from the kitchen window. I could not hear their conversation but I saw Four's shoulders shake. Saw him put his head in his hands. Saw Manuel grip his shoulder like a brother.When Manuel left he stopped in the kitchen. "He will be okay. It takes time. What he did was impossible and
Manuel's POVThe wall exploded inward and three cartel sicarios burst through the adjacent room into the panic room where Yates stood. Time fractured into slow motion. Gunfire. Screaming. Blood spraying across white walls. Javier returned fire. I pulled Four behind a concrete pillar. Yates dove to the floor.The sicarios were professionals. Military trained. They moved with precision and fired with accuracy that came from years of killing. One of Yates' guards fell beside me. Half his face is gone. I forced myself not to look at what remained."We need him alive," I shouted to Four over the chaos. "The cartel wants him breathing long enough to access his accounts.""How do we get to him?""We do not fight them. We work with them."I stood with my hands raised. Spoke in Spanish. "We are not your enemy. We want the same thing. Yates and his accounts. We can help you get both."The lead sicario lowered his weapon slightly. Suspicious but listening. "Who are you?""Manuel Torres. Private
Four's POVI had seven days to find a ghost or watch my family die. The weight of that deadline pressed against my chest every second. Every breath felt borrowed. Every heartbeat counted down to nothing.Manuel spread files across my dining room table at midnight. Rivera brought federal contacts who owed him favours. We worked in careful silence because one wrong move would trigger the cartel's threat. They said no federal involvement beyond Rivera. That meant we walked a razor's edge between cooperation and betrayal."Yates has been moving every seventy-two hours," Manuel said. "Prague. Vienna. Athens. Always cities with strong privacy laws. Always cash transactions. No credit cards. No bank accounts under any name we know.""He is smart," Rivera added. "Too smart. He has done this before.""Then how do we find him?"Manuel pulled up a laptop screen. "He has a weakness. Ego. Look at these."Anonymous messages filled the screen. Sent to my personal email over the last month. Taunting.
Manuel's POVI stood in Four's hospital room holding a folder I wished I could burn. Veronica looked at me with concern. Four pushed himself more upright in bed despite the pain it caused."What is it, Manuel? Just tell me."I opened the folder and pulled out financial reports. Stock charts showing
Veronica's POVMonte was playing with his toy trucks on the floor of his room when the alarms started screaming. The sound was deafening and immediate. Red lights flashed in the hallway. My son looked up at me with wide terrified eyes."Mama?"I scooped him up before I even processed what was happe
Four's POVThe hospital discharge papers felt like freedom in my hands. Two weeks of forced rest, countless tests, and Dr Chen's stern warnings about not pushing myself too hard. But I was finally going home.Veronica held Mont
Veronica's POV.“Hi. Four. I need your help.”I heard him clear his throat. Four.The name didn't sound so weird anymore. “Four, are you there?”“Wh—who, I'm sorry but who exactly am I talking to?”“It's me! It's me, Veronica! The girl from the bar. I brought you home! Oh my goodness, don't be lik







