The cab pulled up at the entrance of an old park, the kind that seemed abandoned by both children and the city. The driver glanced into the rearview mirror with uneasy eyes.“You sure this the place, boss?” he asked, his voice gravelly.Ash stared through the window. The park was swallowed in darkness. Rusted swings creaked faintly with the night breeze, weeds choked the benches, and the cracked pavement shone slick under the dim moonlight. Even the streetlight at the corner had long since died, leaving the place a pocket of shadows.“Yeah,” Ash said, more to himself than the driver. “This is it.”The driver sniffed, shook his head, and muttered, “Nothing good happens in places like this after dark.”Ash forced a weak smile, “Story of my life.” He shoved a couple of bills into his hand, and stepped out before he lost his nerves. The cab sped away, its taillights the last flicker of safety vanishing into the dark.Silence.Ash shoved his hands in his pockets, his heart hammering. His p

Ash's body screamed for rest, but his mind sharpened the moment he saw Brooklyn step through the door. The man’s calm presence carried a weight that the antiseptic air of the hospital room couldn’t mask. Brooklyn didn’t fidget, didn’t blink nervously, he simply walked in, measured, self-assured, as if he had every right to be there.He didn’t stride in like a concerned friend or family member, but with the slow, deliberate poise of a man who wanted to make his presence known. His suit was sharp, his hair slicked back, his expression unreadable. But his eyes, cold, calculating, lingered far too long on Tessa before flicking to Ash.“Still breathing, I see,” Brooklyn said casually, as if commenting on the weather.Tessa straightened in her chair beside the bed. “Brooklyn,” she said carefully, her tone both welcoming and cautious. “You didn’t have to come...”“Of course I did,” Brooklyn cut her off smoothly, stepping closer. “News like this travels fast. A man beaten half to death in a d

Ash leaned back against the stiff hospital pillow, the antiseptic air thick around him. Every breath ached, and his ribs screamed when he shifted. His arms were wrapped, bruised to the bone, nearly useless. Still, his eyes searched for something beyond the sterile white walls — something real, something that reminded him why he had to keep fighting.The door clicked open, and Tessa walked in, balancing a plastic tray of food. Her hair was pulled back hastily, and dark circles shadowed her eyes. She set the tray on the small table and looked at him with that mixture of pity and frustration he had begun to recognize.“You should eat,” she said flatly, pulling a chair close.“I can manage,” Ash muttered, trying to lift his hand toward the fork. His fingers trembled, barely gripping. The fork clattered against the tray.Tessa’s sigh was sharp. “Stop pretending you can. You can’t even hold it.” She picked up the spoon, scooping mashed potatoes like she was feeding a child.Ash clenched his

Morning light spilled weakly through the blinds, striping the walls in pale gray lines. Ash stirred on the hospital bed, the stiffness in his arms and ribs reminding him he was still a prisoner to his own body. He turned his head slowly, expecting to see Tessa nearby.She was there, but her back was to him, phone in hand, shoulders slumped forward in a way that looked more like surrender than rest.“Tessa?” His voice was gravelly, dry.She jolted slightly and slipped her phone into her pocket before turning. “You’re awake. How… how are you feeling?”Ash forced a thin smile. “Like I fought a war and lost.” He let out a breath, studying her face. There were dark smudges under her eyes. “Did you sleep at all?”“A little,” she replied, brushing imaginary dust from the blanket over his legs. “Don’t worry about me.”But her eyes didn’t quite meet his, and Ash felt that familiar stab of distance. He swallowed, his throat tight.“And… our little girl?” he asked, suddenly remembering.Tessa bl

“So… you really heard everything last night?”Brooklyn’s voice cut through the quiet hospital room, smooth but edged, like he was testing the waters.Ash blinked slowly, his eyes still heavy, his throat dry. He tried to answer but only managed a faint, raspy sound.“Brooklyn, stop,” Tessa snapped from the chair beside the bed, her hand gripping Ash’s arm protectively. “He’s not supposed to be talking. The doctor said he needs rest.”Brooklyn leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, studying Ash with the kind of patience that wasn’t really patience at all. His eyes narrowed slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.“So that’s a yes then,” he said quietly, tilting his head. “He heard.”Ash's chest rose and fell unevenly. He wanted to tell him to shut up, to tell them both he wasn’t as weak as they thought, but his body betrayed him. His lips parted, and the faintest croak slipped out.“I..I...”Tessa leaned forward quickly. “No. Don’t,” she insisted, stroking h