A tiny figure braced against the wind, pulling something massive and dark behind her.
Samuel ran faster than his body wanted to allow.
“Emily!” he shouted.
She turned, relief exploding across her face.
“Grandpa!” she cried hoarsely. “Help me. He’s freezing. He won’t wake up.”
Samuel skidded to a stop when he saw the jacket, the emblem, the blood, the size of the man. For half a second, every warning he had ever heard flared through his mind.
Then he saw Emily’s hands.
Blue. Shaking. Still holding on.
And the choice made itself.
They dragged the man inside together. Samuel slammed the door shut against the storm. Emily finally let go, her body folding as exhaustion claimed her.
Outside, the blizzard screamed on.
Inside, something irreversible had already happened.
The Man Who Had Stopped Wanting to Live
Heat was the first thing Daniel Cross felt when consciousness returned—and it confused him deeply, because warmth belonged to a world he had already decided to leave behind.
Pain followed, brutal and sharp, radiating from his leg and hands. Then something smaller cut through it all.
Someone was holding his hand.
He forced his eyes open.