Chapter 19 #2
I remained beside the window until Remedy’s footsteps disappeared down the staircase, listening to the sound grow fainter beneath the quiet hum of the clubhouse.
The confession he had left behind seemed to linger in the room after him, warm enough to soften the darkness pressed against the glass.
I love you. Three words I had spent most of my life believing belonged to other women, to people raised inside homes where affection was not another form of control and promises did not become weapons the moment someone wanted obedience.
Remedy had spoken them without asking what they might earn him.
He had offered love the same way he offered everything else—with open hands and enough space for me to choose whether I was ready to accept it.
I had chosen him.
The certainty remained almost frightening in its simplicity.
I did not know what tomorrow would demand or how many old fears would rise between us before trust became instinct.
I could not promise that love would erase the Order from my dreams or silence the part of me that still measured every room for danger.
Yet for the first time, uncertainty did not feel like a warning to leave.
It felt like proof that the future was still unwritten, and perhaps that meant I was finally free to help shape it.
A soft sound came from the bedroom behind me.
Charlie shifted beneath the blanket, one small hand searching blindly across the mattress until her fingers closed around Mr. Pickles.
She sighed as soon as she found him and settled back into sleep, unaware that the world outside her room had changed again.
I crossed the floor quietly and sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing the curls from her forehead while my heart adjusted to the love I had finally admitted aloud.
I loved Remedy.
I loved Charlie.
The two truths were not separate. Loving him meant understanding that every part of his heart had already been shaped around the little girl sleeping beside me, while loving her meant accepting that I could never treat her trust as something temporary or convenient.
I did not know what role I would someday have in her life, and I refused to claim one before Remedy and I had earned it together.
For now, I could simply be Sunshine—the woman who kept breakfast promises, listened to dragon stories, remembered which stuffed bear required syrup, and stayed whenever Charlie reached for her.
That was enough for tonight.
The door opened quietly several minutes later, and Daisy stepped inside. She wore a long cardigan over her pajamas, her silver-streaked hair pulled into a loose knot, and the concerned expression of someone who had heard the urgency in Toxic’s voice downstairs.
“Everything alright?”
“I don’t know yet. Cipher found something.”
Her gaze moved toward the empty hallway. “Remedy went down?”
I nodded.
Daisy closed the door behind her before crossing the room. Her eyes lingered on my face, and I knew immediately that whatever she saw there reached beyond fear.
“What happened before the radio call?”
Heat touched my cheeks despite everything unfolding below.
“Nothing.”
She raised one eyebrow.
“Not nothing,” I corrected.
Daisy sat beside me on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake Charlie. “Do you want to tell me?”
I looked down at the small hand resting against Mr. Pickles’ worn fur.
Saying the words to Remedy had felt terrifying but inevitable.
Saying them to someone else made the confession feel even more real, as though love had crossed from a private truth into a life I could no longer pretend had not begun.
“We told each other we’re in love.”
Daisy’s breath caught, and for one brief moment the woman who always seemed prepared for everyone else’s revelations looked genuinely surprised. Then warmth transformed her expression.
“Oh, Sunshine.”
The tenderness in her voice tightened my throat.
“I didn’t plan to say it.”
“The important things rarely wait for perfect timing.”
“I’m afraid it’s too soon.”
“Do you believe it?”
“Yes.”
“Does he?”
“Yes.”
“Then time isn’t the question.”
I looked at her. “Charlie is.”
Daisy’s gaze moved toward the sleeping child. “Charlie is part of the answer.”
“She makes everything matter more.”
“She should.”
“And if Remedy and I fail?”
“You might.”
The honesty startled me.
Daisy folded her hands in her lap. “Love does not come with a guarantee that nobody will make a mistake. You could misunderstand each other, become frightened, or hurt one another without meaning to. Remedy could retreat into work, and you could retreat into silence. The question is not whether you’ll ever fail.
It’s whether you’ll choose honesty when you do and whether you’ll repair what can be repaired instead of letting fear make every decision. ”
I stared down at Charlie, absorbing the truth I had not known I needed.
Inside the Order, mistakes had been treated as proof of corruption.
A spilled bowl, a forgotten instruction, or a moment of hesitation became evidence that punishment was deserved.
There had never been room for repair because forgiveness without suffering would have weakened the men who controlled us.
Harbor House existed because people believed something different.
Broken things could be mended.
Trust could be rebuilt.
Love did not require perfection to remain real.
“I don’t know how to be part of a family,” I whispered.
Daisy covered my hand with hers. “Neither did any of us until we started trying.”
A radio crackled in the hallway before footsteps hurried past the door. Daisy stood immediately.
“Stay with Charlie. I’ll find out what happened.”
I almost agreed. Then the old instinct to remain protected while others confronted the truth tightened around me, and I knew I could not allow fear to place me back inside a room waiting for men to decide what I deserved to know.
“No.”
Daisy paused.
“I’m going downstairs.”
“Sunshine—”
“I’ll leave Charlie with Lark or one of the women. I need to hear whatever Cipher found.”
She studied my face, then nodded. “Alright.”
The simple acceptance strengthened me more than argument would have. Daisy did not assume fear made me incapable. She merely reached for the folded blanket at the foot of the bed and tucked it more securely around Charlie before leading me into the hallway.
Lark waited near the nursery with two children sleeping on pallets beside her.
When I explained, she agreed to stay with Charlie without hesitation.
I kissed the top of Charlie’s head before leaving, breathing in the familiar scent of strawberry shampoo and lavender detergent until the quiet rhythm of her breathing steadied mine.
“I’ll come back,” I whispered.
Charlie did not wake, but I kept the promise anyway.
The hallway grew brighter as Daisy and I descended toward the first floor.
Voices carried from the conference room, sharper than before, while brothers moved between doors with radios pressed to their ears.
The exterior camera feeds had returned on the monitors near Cipher’s station, though several remained distorted by static.
Toxic stood at the head of the long table beside Remedy, whose gaze found me the moment I entered.
Concern crossed his face.
“You should be upstairs.”
The old wording might once have made me retreat or become defensive. Now I heard the fear beneath it.
“I left Charlie with Lark.”
Remedy crossed the room and stopped in front of me. “Cipher found a live feed.”
My stomach tightened. “From where?”
“One of the cameras Malachi planted.”
The room seemed to lose warmth.
Cipher turned his laptop toward us. The image showed a narrow interior space illuminated by a single overhead bulb.
Concrete walls. A steel door. A wooden chair bolted to the floor.
No people occupied the room, but the setting carried enough familiarity that my body recognized the danger before my mind could name it.
“Where is this?” I asked.
“We don’t know,” Cipher answered. “The feed bounced through multiple servers, but it was activated less than ten minutes ago and sent directly to one of our security addresses.”
“He wanted us to find it,” Toxic said.
Remedy moved closer until his arm brushed mine.
Cipher pressed a key.
Sound filled the room.
At first there was only static, followed by the scrape of something heavy across concrete. Then a man’s voice emerged, calm and measured enough to turn every memory inside me cold.
“Sunshine.”
My fingers closed around Remedy’s sleeve.
The voice had aged, becoming rougher than I remembered, but the deliberate way he pronounced the name carried the same contempt Brother Malachi once reserved for women who had chosen identities outside the Order.
“You have confused shelter with freedom,” the recording continued. “You have mistaken indulgence for love and lawlessness for family. The children gathered around you are not yours to corrupt, and the men protecting you cannot erase the covenant you abandoned.”
Nobody in the conference room moved.
I forced myself to keep breathing.
“You were given time to return willingly. That mercy has now ended.”
The camera shifted slightly.
A second chair came into view.
Someone sat in it.
The image showed only bound hands resting against dark fabric, wrists bruised beneath plastic restraints. The person’s face remained outside the frame.
A soft whimper moved through the speakers.
Female.
Young.
My heart stopped.
Cipher froze the feed.
Remedy’s hand closed around mine. “Do you recognize her?”
“I can’t see enough.”
Cipher adjusted the image, brightening shadows around the bound wrists. A thin braided bracelet circled one arm, woven from yellow and green thread.
The room tilted.
“No.”
Remedy turned toward me. “Who is she?”
I moved closer to the screen, every breath scraping through my lungs.
“I made that bracelet.”
The words barely emerged.
“When?”
“Inside the Order.”