The remote cabin creaked under the weight of suspicion and exhaustion. Aria sat beside Emma’s bed, holding her sister’s hand as fever burned through the young girl’s body. The wound was worsening fast. Rogue stood by the single window, rifle ready, his massive frame blocking most of the weak morning light. The two remaining loyal brothers — Grit and a quiet man named Hale — waited near the door. The single main room felt smaller with every passing hour. Forced proximity had become their prison and their only shield.
“We can’t wait,” Rogue said, voice low. “The mountain facility is six hours away. Emma needs real medical help now. We move in two convoys. I take point with Aria. Grit and Hale follow with Emma.”
Aria shook her head. “We stay together. No more splitting up. Every time we do,
