The morning sun broke over the horizon, casting a soft
orange light across New Haven. Inside the mansion, the air was alive with
activity as George and his team prepared for the day's mission. The supply runs
they had planned were critical, not just for keeping the town alive, but for
proving to the community that George's leadership could still be trusted in
these uncertain times.
George stood in the kitchen, staring into his coffee, trying
to focus. He could hear the sounds of people bustling outside, the low murmur
of conversation, and the distant clang of tools as workers began another day of
fortifying their defenses.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of boots on the
hardwood floor behind him. Lucy entered, stretching her arms above her head
with a groan. "Morning," she said, her voice groggy but cheerful. She
