Liak’s POVWhen I finished typing and handed it over, I noticed something strange. Hunter looked visibly sad. He wasn’t sad for me, but rather because he deeply understood. It was as if he knew that exact feeling of abandonment somehow in his own life. It was in that quiet moment that I realized he also carried deep wounds wounds I still didn’t know about, wounds I might never truly know. For the rest of the long day, we stayed confined to the small room, waiting for updates. Hunter went out occasionally to check the situation on the streets, and every single time he left, I found myself watching the door. Waiting. Counting the agonizing minutes. Listening intently for footsteps in the hallway. Until he came back. When he finally returned, a part of my body immediately relaxed, as if my flesh had already decided that this man meant safety, even if my rational mind still tried to deny it. That night, while watching Hunter work quietly in front of the computer, I finally understoo
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