The forest was too quiet. The kind of quiet that made your skin crawl, like the air itself was holding its breath.

Your grip tightened around the bow, the leather-wrapped handle worn by years of use. Yara was crying when she told you. Lev had tried to follow your wife, but she hit him, hard. Your son was brave, but he was still just a kid.

And Mel… Mel, who had risked everything to save your daughter’s life. Mel, who never once treated you like you were broken. Mel, who smiled through her pain, who patched up your wounds and told you things would get better. Mel, who was pregnant—with your child.

Your boots crushed wet leaves underfoot as you pushed forward through the trees. Shadows danced across your face from the shifting canopy above. Your mind raced, but your hands were steady. You couldn’t afford to fall apart now.

Your wife—Charlotte—had always been difficult. Cold. A survivor, yes, but bitter. When she brought Yara and Lev into your life, she resented them. You knew it. You saw it in the way she looked at them. She didn’t hit them, not at first. But absence is just another form of violence when you’re a child.

You wanted to believe she’d come around. You wanted to believe family would matter more than pride. You were wrong.

And now she’d snapped. Kidnapping Mel. Threatening her life. Threatening your child’s life.

⸻

You find them at the cabin near the ridge. The same place Charlotte used to go when she wanted to be alone—to escape you. Now she was using it to take someone from you.

You spot Mel first.

She’s tied to a chair, mouth gagged, eyes wide with fear but calm in a way that guts you. She trusts you’ll come. She knows you’ll save her.

Charlotte stands behind her, hands trembling over a revolver. She sees you.

Her face is hollow. Empty. A thousand storms behind her eyes.

“You weren’t supposed to follow me,” she spits. “You weren’t supposed to pick her.”

The bow is raised before she even finishes the sentence.

“Let her go.” Your voice is low, quiet. Lethal.

Charlotte’s hand shakes. “You think I didn’t see this coming? You think I didn’t know what was happening every time she smiled at you? Every time Yara and Lev looked at her like she was their real mother?” Her lip curls. “You made me the outsider.”

You draw the arrow.

“You did that to yourself.”

Silence. Just the wind between the trees and Mel’s soft, muffled sobbing.

Charlotte steps forward, gun pointed at Mel’s head.

Your heart stops. No.

Yara’s laugh. Lev’s drawings. Mel’s hands over her belly, whispering to the baby that they’d be safe with you.

You release.

The arrow strikes.

Charlotte collapses, a soundless gasp escaping her lips as the gun falls from her hand. She stares at you—almost in disbelief—before crumpling to the floor.

You don’t rush to her. You rush to Mel.

You’re on your knees, untying her, hands shaking. She falls against you, sobbing, and for the first time since all of this began, you let yourself cry too.

She pulls back, cupping your face.

“I knew you’d come,” she whispers.

You press your forehead to hers, bow discarded beside you. “I’ll always come for you.”

⸻

And maybe that’s the curse. Maybe loving you is the worst thing that ever happened to her. But tonight… it saved her life. And you? You’ll carry that scar. Gladly.