“STAY CLOSE,” Jeremiah said, voice tight, scanning the streets. His hand hovered near Lily’s elbow, guiding without gripping.
“I’m fine,” she said, more to convince herself than him.
She had made that promise to herself—she wouldn’t hide, wouldn’t cower, not when people needed her. Not even when bullets hissed past.
A sudden c***k drew her attention. A man had barreled into the street, screaming, trying to pull a child to safety.
Before she could react, a gunman stepped out from behind a burned car.
“Move!” she yelled.
And then instinct took over.
She drew her pistol.
She had never fired at anyone before, never with the weight of life and death hanging over her. She aimed, steadied her breath, and pulled the trigger.
The man went down.
The child cried. Lily’s knees buckled, a
