Three days passed. Damon spent them healing. Sleeping on Tommy's couch. Eating Tommy's food. Letting his body recover from the tournament. His ribs were still cracked. His knuckles were still swollen. His right eye was still yellow from the bruise. But he was alive. And that was enough. Tommy walked into the living room on the third evening. His face was strange. Nervous. "Corso," Tommy said. "You want to go out? Get some food?" Damon looked at him. "You never ask to go out. What's going on?" Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. "There's this place. A diner. Some people from middle school are meeting up. I haven't seen them in years." "Middle school?" "Yeah. You remember. We went to Jefferson together." Damon's memory stirred. Jefferson Middle School. A lifetime ago. Before Olivia. Before Lucy. Before the Dravens. Before everything. "I don't know," Damon said. "Come on. It'll be good for you. Get out of the apartment. See some old faces." Damon looked at his reflec

The courthouse was cold.Damon sat in the gallery, waiting. Tommy beside him. Leo across the aisle. Ortega in the back. Elaine at the plaintiff's table, her posture rigid, her eyes sharp.Judge Harrison sat behind the bench. His gray eyes moved slowly across the room. Taking in the lawyers. The witnesses. The tension.The defense lawyer, Westbrook, stood at his table. His thin face was smug. Confident."Your Honor," Westbrook began, "the defense moves to suppress all evidence submitted by the plaintiff. The witness Leo Rojas is a known criminal. The witness Javier Ortega is an illegal immigrant. The bank records were obtained without a warrant."Elaine stood up. "Your Honor, the evidence was obtained legally. Mr. Rojas voluntarily provided the documents. Mr. Ortega is a legal resident. And the bank records—""—were obtained by a disgraced former FBI agent," Westbrook interrupted. "A man with a known grudge against my client."Judge Harrison raised his hand. "Counselor, let her finish.

Damon walked away from Olivia's grave.The cemetery was quiet. The sun was rising behind the clouds, casting pale light across the headstones. The wind rustled through the trees. Birds sang in the distance.He felt lighter than he had in months. He had talked to Olivia. Told her about the court case. Told her about the tournament. Told her he was going to bring Lucy home. Told her he missed her. Told her he would never stop fighting for their daughter.He walked toward the cemetery gates. The bus stop was two blocks away. The street was empty. Quiet. Too quiet.Damon felt something wrong. A prickle at the back of his neck. A warning his body recognized before his mind did. He turned.He didn't see the van.It came from nowhere. A white panel van with no windows. It swerved onto the sidewalk. Tires screeched. Metal screamed. Engine roaring like an animal.Damon tried to jump back. His body moved too slow. His legs wouldn't obey. The van was too fast. Too close.The impact was like bein

Damon lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying Cassian's visit in his mind. The threats. The laughter. The cold, empty eyes. The Dravens weren't going to give up. They were going to keep coming. Keep threatening. Keep trying to destroy him.But they had made a mistake.They had shown their hand. They had revealed their desperation. Cassian wouldn't have come to the hospital if they weren't scared. If they weren't losing.Damon smiled in the darkness. A cold, hard smile.They were scared. Good. They should be.***Morning came eventually but it was slow. Tommy arrived at 8am with coffee and a bag of donuts. His face was tired. His eyes were red. But he was smiling."Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," Tommy said. "The doctor says you can try sitting up today."Damon pushed himself up. His ribs screamed. His leg throbbed. His head pounded. But he did it. He sat up. Stayed upright."See?" Tommy said. "You're getting better.""I'm getting out of here.""Not today. But may

Damon sat at the plaintiff's table, his heart still pounding from his testimony. His hands were steady now, but his mind was racing. He had told the truth. He had fought for Lucy. Now it was time for the Dravens to respond.Judge Harrison looked down at the courtroom. "The plaintiff may call their next witness."Elaine stood up. "The plaintiff calls Javier Ortega."Ortega walked to the witness stand. His face was still bruised. His left eye was still swollen. But his steps were steady. His chin was high.He raised his right hand. Swore to tell the truth as he had done the previous time.Elaine approached him."Mr. Ortega, how do you know the Dravens?"Ortega's voice was quiet but clear. "I worked for them. For five years. I moved money. From the Dravens to shell companies. From shell companies to the cartel."The courtroom murmured."And who instructed you to move this money?""Alistair Draven. He gave me the orders. He signed the documents. He knew where the money was going."Westbro