88
The city had returned to a fragile calm.
No sirens. No explosions. Just the soft hum of streetlights and the occasional distant honk.
Mara and I sat on the roof of an abandoned building, looking at the skyline. Smoke from Grey's factory still lingered in the distance, a grim reminder of what we had survived—and what we had lost.
She leaned against me. "Do you ever think we'll be normal again?"
I shook my head. "Normal doesn't exist for us anymore. But maybe… we can be alive. Together."
Her eyes glimmered with tears. "Alive… yes. But at what cost?"
89
We counted the losses.
Friends betrayed. Innocents dead. Shadows everywhere.
Every decision we had made had consequences, blood-stained and permanent.
Mara traced her fingers along my arm. "We survived… but we're not the same."
"No," I admitted. "We're better… and worse. Stronger. Scarred. But still here."
She laughed softly, bitter but genuine. "I never wanted you in this world. But I'm glad you are."
90
The nights were the hardest.
Memories of screams, of explosions, of choices I had made replayed endlessly.
I woke in cold sweats, heart racing, haunted by the people I couldn't save.
Mara didn't sleep much either. Sometimes she whispered names into the dark, faces from her past and ours, victims of our survival.
We held each other through the nights, sharing warmth, even as the shadows lingered.
91
Days turned into weeks.
We found temporary safehouses, moved quietly, and avoided anyone who could link us to Grey.
But life had a strange rhythm. Even amidst fear, we began to breathe.
Mara taught me to read danger before it came. I taught her small moments of normalcy—coffee at sunrise, long drives with no destination, laughter at absurd things.
Together, we learned that survival didn't mean constant vigilance. It meant choosing moments of humanity wherever we could.
92
Then came the letter.
No return address. Just a simple note:
"You survived the storm. But the tides never stop. —G"
We didn't respond. We didn't need to.
It was a reminder: the world we lived in didn't forgive. Grey might be gone, or he might be watching.
Either way, the threat was eternal.
93
Despite everything, love persisted.
Mara held my hand one evening as we watched the sunset. "We made it," she whispered.
"We did," I said.
She leaned her head on my shoulder. "But we paid for it. Every choice… every life… every scar. We can't forget."
"I won't," I promised. "And I'll make sure we survive together. Always."
Her eyes glimmered with quiet determination. "Then let's live. Not just survive. Live."
94
We were changed. Forever.
But in a world where love had been the most dangerous thing, surviving it together was the ultimate victory.
We didn't know if Grey—or anyone like him—would ever return.
We didn't know if the lives we had lost could be avenged.
But we knew one truth:
Loving each other had been the dangerous part. Surviving it… was everything.