Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
It didn’t feel like a miracle. It felt like a cruel, narrow escape.
When I got to the hospital, I went straight to their room. Both of them looked so small in those beds. Monitors beeped softly, and there were oxygen tubes taped beneath their noses, their faces pale and far too still. Kaida’s little hand was curled into a loose fist on the blanket. Kairo’s brows twitched now and then, like he was halfway between dreaming and waking.
I sat between their beds and didn’t move. I didn’t cry, I was too hollow to do that. I just stared at them, waiting and wishing for something to feel real again.
And then a woman from Child Protective Services came in, clipboard in hand, her voice gentle but firm. She introduced herself, explained who she was, and said the police had found some documentation at Kemble and Aislinn’s house. Legal paperwork that’d been notarized and was framed and hanging on the wall like a photo, as if they’d always known there was a chance this could happen. As if they’d planned for the unthinkable.
They’d named me as the kids’ guardian.
My ears rang as she spoke, and I could barely hear her over the roaring in my head.
“Are you aware of the document?” she asked.
“I’ve seen it,” I said, my voice rasping. “But I didn’t think…” I trailed off because what the hell else was there to say? I didn’t think I’d ever need to step in because I didn’t think Kemble would ever be gone.
But it made sense. His dad’s health had been declining for years—he had COPD and could barely make it through a phone call without wheezing. His mom had passed two years ago. His older brother was an addict who was in and out of jail and barely able to take care of himself, let alone two grieving kids. So it fell to me.
I looked at Kairo and Kaida—my godkids, my chosen family—and knew what I had to do.
But, God, I had no idea how I was going to do it.
There was my job—the late hours, the danger, the absolute chaos I waded through every day. The corruption investigation was heating up fast, and I was knee-deep in it. How the hell could I protect two innocent kids while also trying to tear down a system filled with people who’d rather see me buried than exposed?
My house was barely set up for me, let alone two children. Bedrooms needed clearing, locks needed changing, and routines needed rewriting. And Sayla, I hadn’t even told her yet. She’d been so good to me, the dogs, and this strange little life we were building together. But this was a lot.
As much as I cared about her and wanted her by my side, she couldn’t be the priority right now. These kids had lost everything. What they needed now wasn’t romance, comfort, or stability—it was safety, consistency, and a home.
I didn’t know if I could give them all of that. But I was going to try. I had to try.
Because Kemble had trusted me with the most important thing he had. Because Kaida and Kairo had no one else. Because there wasn’t a single version of me that could look in the mirror if I turned away from this.
So I sat between their beds, hands clenched, and silently promised them—and him—that I wouldn’t let them fall.
No matter what it cost me.
Chapter 12
Sayla
Roque came home two days later.
The second I saw him, my heart stopped. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the moment he’d left. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed in red, his face pale and drawn. His shoulders sagged like the weight of the world had finally broken him. There was a hollowness in his expression I’d never seen before—like something inside him had been stripped away, piece by piece.
There was so much I wanted to say. Why didn’t you answer your phone? Where the hell were you? Are you okay? But none of those questions mattered in the face of what I saw in front of me, so I just opened my arms.
He didn’t say a word as he stepped into them. He wrapped me up in a hug so tight I could barely breathe, lifting me right off the ground like he needed to physically anchor himself to something before he came undone.
And I let him.
I didn’t speak, didn’t ask, didn’t prod. I just held on, giving him the space to feel what he needed to feel, knowing that words would come when they were ready.
And then, after a long silence, I felt his breath stutter against my neck. His voice was raw, wrecked, broken into something unrecognizable.
“They’re gone. Kemble and Aislinn, they’re dead.”
My eyes stung immediately, and I gripped him tighter as he slowly set me back down on the floor. I didn’t let go of his hand as I guided him to the couch, and when he sat down, I climbed into his lap, straddling him so he couldn’t hide from the safety I was offering. His hands went instinctively to my hips, but there was no tension in them—just the tremble of a man holding himself together with whatever scraps he had left.