That night, for the first time since her mother died, Allora slept without listening for boots on the floor.
Cole sat awake by the fire, staring into flames.
He had paid three coins.
But he hadn’t bought her.
He had bought a chance.
Morning crept in gold and quiet.
No shouting.
No doors slamming.
Just the smell of coffee.
Cole stood by the stove, turning eggs in a skillet.
