Chapter Twenty Eight

The day begins like a bruise — tender and slow to surface.

For once, I don’t have to paint my face in war colors or fight the desert wind to deliver monologues drenched in betrayal. It’s a non-shooting day. For me, at least. Everyone else still buzzes like bees around sugar.

I stay wrapped in my robe far too long, my phone pressed to my chest like a heartbeat substitute.

When I finally call, it’s deep night back home.

Alina answers instantly.

Her curls are tied in a lopsided puff, her eyes half-lidded with sleep. “Mommy,” she whispers, the word clinging to her tongue like it’s sacred.

“Hi, baby.” My voice trembles. I don’t even try to hide it this time.

She’s sitting on Sophia’s lap, a blanket over both of them. The screen is dim but soft — the kind of safe glow I haven’t felt in months.

“You didn’t forget today,” she says, her smile curling at the corners like sunrise. “I waited.”

Sophia gives me a look — warm and watchful. “She’s been holding the phone like a good luck charm all eve