For the past few days, the biting cold had become a permanent fixture in Zara's life, clinging to her like an unwelcome shadow. Each step felt heavier than the last, and her boots soaked through from trudging through endless puddles and half-melted snow. Her body ached, her feet blistered and raw, and the persistent chill seemed to seep into her very bones. The rain came down in icy sheets, plastering her dark hair to her face and soaking through her tattered coat.
Leo clung to her chest, his small arms wrapped loosely around her shoulders, his head resting against her neck. He was so quiet, so still, that for a moment, Zara worried he might have fallen asleep or worse. But the faint warmth of his breath on her skin reassured her. She adjusted her grip on the rusted metal pipe in her hand and scanned the stretch of abandoned highway ahead.
