The sun was blinding when we finally emerged from the bunker.
After twenty-four hours underground, the air in the lodge tasted sweet—like pine needles and freedom. But the living room was a disaster. Broken glass, shredded furniture, and a hole in the wall where Marcus had decided to become a door during the attack.
"I’ll call the contractors," Caleb said, surveying the damage with a grimace. "We’ll have it fixed by tonight."
"I can fix the drywall," Marcus offered, walking out of the kitchen with a fresh pot of coffee.
He was wearing a t-shirt that said 'I Paused My Game to Be Here'. "But I’m not paying for that vase. That was ugly anyway."
I laughed, the sound surprising me. Yesterday, I was terrified. Today? I felt... settled. Maybe it was the "Luna" title Caleb had thrown aro
