BROOKLYN Morning came quietly. Not gently—but quietly, like it didn’t want to scare me awake. I opened my eyes to pale light filtering through unfamiliar curtains and for a split second forgot where I was. Then the weight settled back in—safe house three, the night call, Dominic’s voice in my ear, soon pressed into my chest like a promise that could bruise. I lay there listening. No alarms. No rushing footsteps. Just the low, steady hum of security and the distant clink of dishes somewhere downstairs. Relief crept in slowly, cautious as a stray cat. A knock sounded at my door. Soft. Respectful. I sat up immediately. “Yeah?” The door opened just enough for Mr. Alcott to peer in. “Good morning, Mrs. Blackwell. Gerald has arrived.” My heart skipped. “Is everything okay?” “Yes,” he said. And this time—this time—he smiled. Just a little. “Very much so.” That was all it took. I was out of bed in seconds. ⸻ Elliot was already dressed when I reached his room, sitting cross-l
Last Updated : 2025-12-18 Read more