The dawn broke in slivers of cold light. Mist hovered over the forest like a gray curtain. The convoy approached the coordinates they had memorized, and every engine, every wheel, every breath felt like a countdown. Sebastian sat in the front seat, hands tight on the steering wheel, eyes scanning the horizon, ears tuned to the comms. Isabelle sat beside him, her stomach pressing lightly against the edge of the seatbelt, her mind a mix of nerves and determination.
"You okay?" he asked without turning his head.
She nodded, gripping the hand strap above her. "I've been through worse. Kind of."
He glanced at her, lips twitching. "I hope not," he muttered, then turned his focus back to the road. "Because I won't forgive anyone for touching you."
She gave him a faint smile, though her stomach fluttered in more ways than one. The baby kicked a rhythmic pulse that reminded her why they were here. Not for revenge, not just for justice, but for life. For the future.
