Chapter 5 - The Cabin on the Cove
Victor motioned for Luca to stay back.
He didn't draw his gun. He knew that if he approached her like an enforcer, she would run until the ice broke beneath her feet.
He walked alone across the frozen snow, his breath pluming in the freezing air, his boots crunching softly against the crust. Every step felt like walking across glass.
The wooden door of the shack hung slightly ajar, secured only by a frayed length of rope tied to a rusted nail.
Victor pushed it open.
The interior was dim, heated by a small, inefficient wood-burning stove that cast flickering orange light across the rotting floorboards. The smell of cedar smoke mingled with the sharp, clean scent of baby formula.
In the corner, sitting on a folded army blanket with her back against the timber wall, was Nora.
She wore a heavy parka, her face pale, hollowed out by exhaustion and cold. Her dark hair was tangled, escaping a hasty ponytail. In her arms, clutched tightly against her chest inside a canvas baby-wearing wrap, slept Leo, his tiny face flushed pink from the warmth of the stove.
A few feet away, Mia lay swaddled in a padded jacket inside an open plastic storage bin lined with spare clothes.
Nora didn't scream when the door opened. She didn't reach for a weapon. She simply lifted her head, her dark eyes steady, completely devoid of the fear Victor expected to find there.
“You took your time,” she said. Her voice was raspy, worn down by hours of cold air and silence.
Victor stood in the doorway, blocking the draft, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. “Nora,” he breathed.
“Close the door,” she said quietly. “You’re letting the cold in. Leo just fell asleep.”
May you like
Victor obeyed. He stepped inside, pulled the wooden door shut, and slid the frayed rope over the nail. He stood there in the shadows, looking down at his wife and his children, realizing how utterly small his empire was compared to the space they occupied on that dirty floor.
“You could have frozen to death,” Victor said, his voice cracking slightly. “I would rather freeze than stay in a cage where my children are footnotes to your convenience,” Nora replied, not raising her voice. It was worse than yelling. It was the absolute, unshakeable certainty of a woman who had already mourned the end of her marriage.
