Chapter 193

LUCA

If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was home.

Not hiding in a cabin so deep in the woods the sunlight feels filtered, and strained.

Mot hunted, not constantly calculating every sound outside the window. Just… home.

Because when I opened my eyes, Alina was there, barefoot, balancing a tray in her hands.

Her hair was messy from sleep, her sweatshirt hanging too wide on one shoulder.

The smell of fried eggs, buttered toast, and coffee carried across the room before she even reached me.

“Good morning,” she whispered, like saying it too loud might break the spell of calm we were trapped in.

I propped myself up against the headboard, my shoulder still aching where the bullet had grazed me yesterday.

The bandage tugged when I moved, a reminder that normal was a lie.

But looking at her, I wanted to buy into it anyway.

She set the tray on my lap, her eyes looking up to mine as if waiting for me to tell her she’d done too much. I didn’t.

I picked up the fork, and I ate.

And for te