A little girl sat beside him, cheeks flushed, hair unevenly braided, rubbing his fingers between her palms as if she could will them back to life.
“You’re back,” she said, relieved. “Good. Grandpa said you were being stubborn.”
Daniel tried to speak. His throat burned.
“Don’t talk yet,” she ordered seriously, lifting a mug to his lips. “Sip. That’s what doctors say.”
Warm water grounded him.
“Where am I?” he rasped.
“My house,” she said. “Well—Grandpa’s house. But you’re allowed.”
A deeper voice from the doorway. “Easy.”
Daniel met Samuel Carter’s eyes and saw a man who understood danger.
“You should’ve left me,” Daniel said quietly.
Emily frowned. “No.”
Samuel crossed his arms. “You don’t get to decide that.”
Daniel laughed weakly. “People usually do.”
“Name?” Samuel asked.
“…Daniel.”
“I’m Samuel. That’s Emily.”
Emily smiled proudly. “I dragged you thirty-four feet.”
Daniel swallowed hard.
He hadn’t planned to survive the storm.
Until a small hand refused to let go.
The Twist No One Expected
The doctor came. The leg was broken. Frostbite—close, but survivable.
Daniel would live.
What Samuel didn’t know—what Emily couldn’t understand—was who Daniel Cross really was.