Epilogue – Harper
The mountain air was cool and sharp, carrying the scent of pine and woodsmoke. I stood on Carter’s porch, a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, watching the first blush of dawn spread across the horizon.
For once, the world felt still. No sirens. No gunfire. No shadows pressing in from the corners. Just quiet.
Carter stepped out behind me, his arms sliding around my waist, his chin brushing the top of my head. The steady warmth of him anchored me more than the blanket ever could.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low, rough from sleep.
I shook my head. “Too much in here.” I tapped my temple gently. “But it’s different now. Not Redwood. Not fear. Just… everything we’ve been through.”
He pressed a kiss against my hair. “And everything still ahead of us.”
The weight of his words settled deep, but not heavy. For the first time, I let myself think about the future—not as a dream, but as something real, something mine.
I turned in his arms, meeting his gaze in the early light. His eyes were tired but steady, filled with the same fierce devotion that had carried us through fire and smoke. “We bring them home,” I whispered.
His lips curved, soft and certain. “All of them.”
The promise wrapped around us as sure as the sunrise. Whatever waited—Luthor, the network, the battles still to come—we’d face it together.
And for the first time, I believed that was enough.