Grace's pov
The rain never stopped.
It soaked through my thin dress in minutes, ran down my neck, dripped from my hair. I walked with my small bag over one shoulder and my hand pressed to my stomach. The baby was so small I couldn't feel anything yet, but I talked to it anyway.
"We're okay," I whispered. "We'll find somewhere dry."
There was an old building near the train station, windows broken, door hanging open. I crawled inside and curled up in a corner on dirty cardboard. Water dripped from the ceiling, plink-plink-plink, right beside my head. I hugged my knees and cried until there were no tears left.
Morning came gray and cold. I went to every café, every shop, every supermarket.
"Please, I can clean, I can cook, I just need work."
They looked at my swollen lip, my bruised cheek, my wet clothes clinging to my body. They shook their heads. Some didn't even speak, just pointed to the door.
Three days. No food except half a sandwich from a trash bin. My stomach hurt all the time now, sharp cramps that made me double over. I decided I couldn't stay in this city anymore. The Hendersons owned too many people here. Someone would find me and drag me back, or worse.
I bought the cheapest bus ticket I could, one that left at night and went far away. The driver looked at me like I was already dead.
The bus broke down halfway. Rain again. Everyone screamed and ran for cover. I slipped on the muddy road, fell hard. My bag flew open. Everything I owned scattered in the water.
A van stopped. Three men got out. Their smiles were wrong.
"Look what we have here," one said, voice low. "Pretty girl all alone."
I tried to run, but my legs wouldn't move fast enough. One grabbed my hair, yanked me back. My scream got lost in the rain.
"Let me go!" I kicked, clawed, bit. The baby. I had to protect the baby.
A hand covered my mouth. Another ripped at my dress. I tasted blood.
Then headlights blinded us. A black car screeched to a stop. The door flew open and a man stepped out, tall, umbrella in one hand, phone in the other.
"Get your hands off her. Now."
The voice cut through the rain like a knife.
The men froze. One laughed. "Mind your business, old man."
The tall man didn't speak again. He just moved. Fast. One punch, the first guy dropped. Second guy got an umbrella to the throat. The third ran.
I fell to my knees, shaking, sobbing.
The man crouched beside me, put the umbrella over my head.
"Grace?"
I looked up through tears and rain. His face was older, lined, but the eyes—those eyes I remembered from when I was five.
"Uncle Marcus?"
He pulled me into his arms like I was still that little girl. "Oh, my God. Grace. I'm here. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't come sooner."
He carried me to his car, wrapped me in a thick blanket from the back seat. The heater blasted warm air. I couldn't stop crying.
In the hospital they checked the baby first. Heartbeat strong. I almost smiled through the bruises.
Uncle Marcus sat beside my bed and held my hand the whole time.
"Tell me everything," he said quietly.
So I did.
I told him about the Hendersons. About Steve cheating. About the night I ran to the bar. I told him every dirty, shameful detail, except the name of the father. That stayed locked behind my teeth.
Uncle Marcus listened without interrupting. When I finished, his eyes were wet.
"I should have fought harder for you," he whispered. "After your parents died, the Hendersons blocked every legal path. I was abroad building the company. By the time I came back, you had disappeared inside that house. I never stopped looking."
I squeezed his hand. "You found me now."
He kissed my forehead. "You're safe. You and the baby. I swear on my life."
We left the hospital in his car, me wearing borrowed clothes and thick socks because my shoes were ruined. The city lights blurred past.
That's when it happened.
A black SUV rammed us from the side. Metal screamed. Glass shattered. Uncle Marcus swerved, cursing.
"Hold on!"
Another car blocked the road. Men in masks jumped out, guns raised.
Uncle Marcus floored it, smashed through a barrier, took us down a side road. Bullets pinged off the car. He was calm, too calm, steering with one hand, pressing buttons on the dashboard with the other.
"Bulletproof," he said when he saw my face. "I've been waiting for this."
We lost them after twenty terrifying minutes. He drove fast, took back roads, didn't stop until we reached a private airfield. A helicopter waited.
We flew through the night. I fell asleep against his shoulder.
I woke up when we landed on a rooftop in a city I didn't know. Tall glass buildings glittered below us like stars.
"This is Aurelia City," he said. "My company headquarters. No one touches us here."
He carried my bag even though I told him I could walk. In the elevator he finally spoke again.
"Those men tonight—they've been hunting me for years. And now they're hunting you."
My heart stopped. "Why?"
He looked at me, eyes old and tired.
"Because I never believed the accident that killed your parents was an accident. I've spent twelve years and millions trying to prove it was murder. Someone powerful ordered the hit. The same someone just tried to finish the job tonight."
I hugged my stomach. "They know I'm alive."
"They know," he said. "And the crash you had before I found you? Not random. They caused it. They wanted you dead or broken."
I started shaking again.
He pulled me close. "Listen to me. I failed your father once. I won't fail you. Tomorrow I'm enrolling you in Aurelia Technical University. Best security in the country. You'll have a new name on paper, new apartment, bodyguards who look like students. You will finish school. You will raise that baby. And I will find the monsters who took your parents from us."
I buried my face in his shirt. He smelled like safety and expensive cologne and the only family I had left.
"I'm scared," I whispered.
"I know, sweetheart. But you're not alone anymore."
He walked me to a huge apartment on the top floor, all windows and soft lights. A bassinet already waited in the corner, tiny and white.
"I had it delivered this afternoon," he said shyly. "Just in case."
I touched the soft blanket and cried again, but this time they were different tears.
Later, lying in a bed bigger than my old attic room, I put both hands on my stomach.
"We made it, little one," I said into the dark. "We're home."
Outside, the city hummed. Inside, for the first time in years, I fell asleep without fear.