The night carried the weight of storm, though no thunder cracked. The air was heavy, charged, each breath River took tasting of pine and iron resolve. Her hand was locked with Heiko’s as they walked the familiar path toward her parents’ house, the stones crunching beneath their steps. She had taken this path a thousand times as a child, running with laughter, chasing shadows. Tonight, every footfall sounded like a war drum.
Heiko glanced at her, reading the fire in her face. He said nothing. This was not his fight to lead, but he would be her shield if it turned to war.
The lantern outside the Smiths’ home flickered, a lonely flame that swayed with the wind. River paused for only a breath before knocking—three sharp raps that echoed like an omen.
The door creaked open. Mariana Smith sto
