Windsor's POV
Election day had finally come.
Months of campaigning, strategizing, and fighting for every vote would be decided within hours. The morning air felt thick with anticipation. I noticed how Zion's grip on my hand was firmer than usual when we woke up.
We had poured everything into this campaign. Zion traveled to remote territories, faced hostile questioning, and stood before skeptical elders and curious children with unwavering determination. That same resolve had captured my heart years ago.
The South remained eerily quiet after Sinclair' arrest. Their territory offered no statements, no endorsements, nothing. Even Logan, who had been friendly during our visits, seemed distant now. At least we knew they wouldn't actively work against us.
