"Healing doesn't ask for speed. It asks for courage"
Night had already swallowed the city when I reached the firm again. The hallways were too quiet—unnaturally quiet—every footstep echoing like a warning. I headed straight to the meeting room where Sophie said she'd be reviewing files for the next morning's reports.
But the room was empty.
No papers. No coffee cup abandoned mid-sip. No Sophie.
It bothered me instantly. She was many things—chaotic, stubborn, sometimes reckless—but she never walked out of a room without leaving at least a pen out of place.
I turned back toward her office, where the lamp was still on. Ashley, her secretary, was organizing documents on Sophie's desk when she saw me.
"Mr. West!" she said, surprised. "You're early."
"Where's Sophie?" I asked.
"Oh—she left. She said she had something personal to take care of. For you, sir."
For me.
My stomach twisted.
"For me?" I repeated slowly. "What do you mean?"
"She said... she found a relative of yours. A far one. She seemed really excited."
A relative.
I felt the world snap into focus with one sharp, cold point of clarity. "I don't have any relatives," I said quietly.
Ashley froze, papers slipping slightly from her hands.
I backed away. "Sophie didn't tell you where she was going?"
"No, sir. But she had her phone with her. If you track it—"
I didn't let her finish.
I was already running.
The drive was a blur.
Streetlights streaked past the windshield like falling stars. My chest felt like it was tightening around every breath. I kept glancing at the dot flashing on the screen—Sophie's location—barely moving, barely shifting.
Too still.
Too wrong.
The pin led me toward the outskirts of town—toward the abandoned apartment complex scheduled for demolition this week. Empty. Dark. A place where no one would notice anything.
I slammed the car door shut and sprinted inside the rusted gates.
The smell hit me first—something acrid, chemical, like gasoline.
Then I saw it. A car.
Sophie. Inside. Tied. Unmoving.
And standing beside the car—
Victor.
Alive.
Smiling.
Like he had been waiting for me.
My heart dropped into a place I'd never felt before. A darker place. A colder place.
I stepped forward, not caring that my hands were already trembling, not caring that my jaw was clenched so tight it hurt.
"I knew you'd figure it out," Victor said, voice calm... amused. "You always were smarter than my little step-daughter."
"Let her go," I growled. "Now."
Victor tilted his head. "You care about her so much. It's adorable. Naive, but adorable. Didn't you miss me? Aren't you glad that I'm alive?"
"You don't have a conscience," I spat. "You drugged her at fifteen. You made her think she tried to take her own life. You broke her, just because you wanted someone to blame for your own failure. Did you seriously fake your death just to do all this?"
Victor shrugged lightly. "She was in my way. Chris was in my way—your father, dear boy. Too clean. Too good. Too loyal to moral codes."
My heart hammered so hard it hurt. All this time.
All the nights I tried to imagine who placed the bomb.
All the anger I buried because I never had answers.
Standing in front of me.
Breathing.
"And you killed them." My voice cracked. "Because you were jealous of him."
Victor smiled as if I had given him a compliment.
"I never felt prouder of anything. And now look at you—your father's little shadow, still desperate to become something."
My nails dug into my palms.
"You sent Clint," I said, my throat burning. "You made Sophie think she was safe because you wanted to break her twice. You stalked her. You threatened her. You hurt her. All this time—it was you."
Victor's smile widened.
"You should've seen her face when she trusted Britney today. Sweet girl, always trying to find the good in people."
He reached into his pocket.
When the lighter clicked open, the entire world narrowed into a single moment.
A single sound.
A single breath.
"No—" I stepped forward, but he backed away, flicking the lighter toward the car.
Flames erupted instantly, like the night itself had swallowed fire.
"SOPHIE!" I yelled, lungs tearing apart.
Victor ran, disappearing between the dark corners of the building, but I didn't care anymore. All I saw was the fire.
All I smelled was smoke.
All I felt was the same heat that once stole my parents.
My legs wouldn't move at first.
My chest seized.
Everything inside me screamed run, but the fire in front of me screamed don't.
I closed my eyes.
She's inside.
And my feet finally moved.
I sprinted through the flames, ripping open the door, fighting the instinct to recoil. The heat clawed at my skin, but I grabbed her anyway—ropes cutting into her skin, smoke staining her lips.
"Sophie—! Sophie, stay with me—"
Her eyelids fluttered.
Just barely.
I lifted her into my arms, ignoring the burning sensation crawling across my arms, ignoring everything but her breathing; shallow, weak, real.
I ran until the fire was behind us. Until the smoke thinned. Until the air was cold again.
I fell to my knees, holding her tightly. "Sophie—open your eyes," I begged. "Please."
She stirred, faint. "G... Grey..."
And my entire world snapped back into place.
---
The hospital lights were too bright.
Too white.
Too sterile.
Sophie lay on the bed, awake now, though exhausted, bruised, shaken. Her hair was a mess, strands stuck to her forehead, but her eyes were open. Alive.
She looked at me, not with gratitude exactly, but with something softer. Something quieter.
Something only she could give.
A small shift of her hand toward mine. A faint press of her fingers. A careful glance that said more than words could carry.
I sat beside her. "You scared the hell out of me."
She lowered her eyes. "It was supposed to be good news. I thought... I thought you'd finally have a family member left."
My chest tightened.
"You did that for me?"
She nodded, gaze dropping to her hands. "I wanted you to have someone. Someone who shared your blood. I'm sorry—it was stupid. I didn't think it through."
"It wasn't stupid," I whispered. "But never do that again. Not alone. Not like that."
Her eyes softened, filling with something raw. "Why?" she asked.
"Because," I said, choking slightly, "I can't afford to lose you. Not again. Not ever. You—"
My throat closed.
"You're enough family for me."
She froze. Her lips parted.
And for a moment... the chaos, the fire, the past; everything faded.
But then her expression shifted into something troubled.
"Victor's still alive," she whispered. "He's out there, Grey."
I took her hand gently. "I know," I said. "But so am I."