Knock. Knock. Knock.
Zara froze.
Another knock—firmer this time, too polite to be a soldier, too early to be Winter. Her heart dropped into her stomach.
She reached for the knife hidden beneath the wooden countertop, fingers twitching with instinct.
No one knocked out here.
Not the soldiers, who didn't care about privacy. And not winter who has the card to enter. He always let himself in, with the kind of quiet ease that said he had nothing to fear from the world.
So who was it?
"Mommy?" Leo's soft voice reached her ears, his small feet padding across the wooden floor. He rubbed sleep from his eyes with one hand and held his stuffed fox in the other. "Who is that? Is Uncle back?"
"Shhh." She crouched beside him, brushing his dark curls away from his forehead. Another knock came—louder this time, more insistent.
"Remember what I told you?"
Leo nodded, his lower lip trembling. "Go to my space."
"Good. Go now, baby. Don't make a sound."
