127

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid of what the past might bring. I was ready to face it. I was ready to see it clearly. I was ready to finally let it go. Whatever secrets remained, whatever truth waited in the edges of my childhood, I was not walking toward it alone.

I had a family now. And I had Torin. That was enough to walk through anything.

The sound of tires crunching over gravel reached me before the knock did. I stood at the kitchen counter rolling a dish towel between my palms, trying not to stare out the window like a child waiting for a parent to come home. Torin had been watching me for the past ten minutes with that quiet, steady expression that said he understood without needing me to explain a thing.

Tannin checked the curtains again. “Big truck,” she murmured. “Old. Loud enough to wake the dead.”

Rook leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “That’s them.”

Reif paced near the hallway, nervous energy radiating off him like heat. “You think they know about me?” he asked.

Torin answered before anyone else. “They know everything that matters,” he said. “And whatever they don’t know, they will learn.”

There was a soft knock. Just once. Firm. Familiar in a way that made my stomach flip.

I hesitated for half a breath before stepping forward. Torin moved with me, close enough that his arm brushed mine. His presence steadied me. Anchored me.

I opened the door. Burdock stood on the landing, broader than I remembered, older than the last time I had seen him, but still carrying that quiet command that made the air settle differently around him. His hair had gone more gray than black. The scar under his left eye was lighter now, almost hidden. He wore a worn jacket and the same boots he used to stomp through the compound in.

Beside him stood Ginger. Her hair was pulled back in a soft twist, streaked with silver but still beautiful. Still warm. Her eyes found mine instantly, and I forgot how to breathe.

Ginger stepped forward and cupped my face gently in both hands. “Look at you,” she whispered. “Baby girl… look at you.”

My vision blurred. A soft sound escaped my throat that I did not even recognize as my own.

“I missed you,” she murmured. “Every day. Every single day.”

I threw my arms around her and held on. She hugged me so tightly I felt something old and knotted inside me split open. The kind of hug I had wanted when I was young. The kind that never came. The kind that said, You were worth loving the whole time.

Ginger pulled back with tears slipping down her cheeks. She brushed my hair from my face like she used to do after long nights in the compound. “You look healthy,” she said. “You look… free.”

Burdock stepped forward then. He did not hug me. He simply placed his big hand on the side of my head and held it there gently. “Good to see you, little bird,” he said with a quiet smile.

I swallowed. “Hi.”

He gave a small nod, as if that was all he needed.

Torin finally stepped out from behind me. When Burdock saw him, his expression changed. A mixture of pride, relief, and a strange softness that I had never seen from him before.

“You did good,” Burdock murmured to Torin.

Torin nodded once. “I did my best.”

“You did more than that.” Burdock reached out, gripped Torin’s shoulder firmly, and held his gaze. “You kept her alive. You kept her whole. That counts.”

Ginger wiped her eyes and stepped into the loft. “Let me see all of you,” she said. “I want faces.”

Rook rose from his chair first. “Burdock,” he greeted, voice respectful.

“Rook,” Burdock returned. He shook his hand, then studied him with a slow, assessing look. “You grew into the kind of man I hoped you would.”

Rook’s jaw tightened, pride flickering across his face. Ginger hugged him next, holding on longer than Rook knew how to handle. He stood stiff for two seconds before melting just enough to return the embrace with one arm. She whispered something into his shoulder that made his eyes shine.

Tannin hovered awkwardly by the counter until Ginger reached for her too. “Come here,” Ginger said.

Tannin stiffened, then blinked hard and hugged her back. Ginger smiled. “You have fire,” she said. “Good. These boys need someone who does.”

Reif stepped forward last.

He lifted his hand. “Hi,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. “I am Reif.”

Burdock studied him, taking in the familiar features, the echo of our mother in the shape of his jaw and mine. After a long moment, Burdock nodded. “You look like her,” he said quietly. “Stronger, though.”

Reif swallowed and looked at the floor. “She was not much of a mom.”

“No,” Burdock agreed. “But that was her failure. Not yours.”

Reif lifted his gaze again. Something eased in his expression.

Once everyone had greeted each other, Ginger touched my shoulder again. “Can we sit?” she asked. “We drove a long way.”

Torin motioned toward the couch. “Of course.”

We gathered around the table and couch in a loose circle. Burdock sat beside Ginger, his hand resting lightly on her knee. They looked comfortable. Settled. Whole in a way I never saw back then.

“What made you decide to come now?” I asked.

Ginger exchanged a look with Burdock before she answered. “The arrest,” she said softly. “We heard what happened with Lucien. We heard what he put you through. We wanted to come long before this, but coming then… it would have been dangerous. We had to make sure the club was truly dead. The Sons. The politics. The threats.”

Burdock nodded. “We waited so you could build your life without more ghosts walking through your door.”

I felt tears press behind my eyes. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“You deserved peace,” Ginger said. “Even if it took too long to reach you.”

I hesitated, then asked the question that had been clawing at me since the letter. “The note,” I said. “Do either of you know what it meant? The part that said Skye wasn’t the only one trying to keep Torin and me apart?”

Silence moved through the room like a shadow.

Burdock leaned forward slowly. His voice came out low and steady. “I know,” he said.

Ginger placed her hand over his. Torin straightened beside me.

I felt my breath catch. “Who?” I asked.

Burdock’s eyes held mine, gentle and heavy with truth.

“The club council,” he said. “The old guard. They didn’t want Torin involved with anyone tied to Skye. They threatened him. They warned me. They wanted to use you as leverage against your brother. They planned to groom you the same way they tried to groom other girls at that age. I shut it down. But it put you in the crosshairs.”