Winter sat in the silence, trying to make sense of what had happened. The storm outside had begun to ease, its relentless howling now reduced to a steady patter against the windows.
Zara had rested on his shoulder, her breathing uneven but gradually slowing as if exhaustion had finally claimed her. The kid was out like a light, his tiny body slack with sleep, cradled protectively in her arms.
Winter's gaze flicked to them both, his chest tightening in a way he couldn't quite explain. He wasn't the sentimental type, never had been. Not since what had happened that day, but Zara seemed to have that effect on him.
Yet here he was, sitting in the wreckage of their lives, unable to leave them behind.
The kid shifted slightly, murmuring something incoherent in his sleep. Winter glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. What was he even doing here? What kind of mess had he let himself get dragged into this time?
