Chapter 9 – THE BREAKFAST TABLE

Two weeks had passed since the night at the docks.

The Rourke mansion had transformed. The heavy, suffocating silence that used to hang in the hallways was replaced by the sounds of children’s laughter. Leo and Sophie had become inseparable, running through the gardens and playing hide-and-seek in the massive library.

I was no longer wearing a black and white uniform. I was dressed in a comfortable cashmere sweater and jeans, standing in the enormous kitchen, flipping pancakes.

It still felt surreal.

“Mom! Sophie says she can eat more pancakes than me, but she’s tiny!” Leo yelled, running into the kitchen, skidding on his socks across the hardwood floor.

“I am not tiny! I’m nine! You’re seven!” Sophie yelled back, chasing him. She stopped at the kitchen island and looked up at me with big, hopeful eyes. “Can I have extra syrup, Miss Hannah?”

“Only if you eat your strawberries first,” I smiled, sliding a stack of pancakes onto her plate.

Silas walked in, reading a newspaper, dressed in a casual black sweater instead of his usual intimidating suits. The cast on his hand was smaller now, wrapped in black fiberglass. He walked up behind me, wrapping his good arm around my waist, and pressed a soft kiss to the side of my head.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice a low, warm rumble that made my toes curl.

“Good morning,” I smiled, flipping the last pancake. “Sleep well?”

“Better than I have in years,” he admitted, pouring himself a cup of black coffee. He looked at the kids sitting at the breakfast bar, arguing over who got the biggest strawberry. His eyes softened.

The transition hadn’t been completely seamless. There were nightmares. The first few nights, Leo would wake up crying, terrified that the men in the masks were coming back. Silas had sat up with him, reading him stories and promising him that no one would ever hurt him again.

Sophie had her moments of insecurity, too, checking multiple times a day to make sure I wasn’t going to disappear like Maren or her mother had.

But we were healing. Together.

“Silas,” I said quietly, leaning against the counter as the kids ate. “I received a letter today. From the prison.”

Silas’s hand stopped halfway to his mouth. He set the coffee mug down slowly, his demeanor instantly shifting from relaxed father to protective alpha. “From Liam?”

I nodded. “He wants to see Leo. He says he has a right as his father.”

Silas’s jaw tightened. “He surrendered his rights the night he faked his death and left you to starve. The night he helped kill my wife.”

“I know,” I said, reaching out to touch his arm. “I’m not going to let him see Leo. But… I think I need to see him. Just once. To say goodbye.”

Silas looked at me, searching my eyes for a long moment. He didn’t like it. Every protective instinct in him was screaming to keep me far away from that prison. But he also understood that I needed closure. I needed to bury the ghost of Liam Brooks once and for all.

“I’m going with you,” Silas said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, pulling me gently against his chest. “You don’t face monsters alone anymore, Hannah. Not ever again.”

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