Nathan stood in the kitchen, the faucet still running as water hissed over his hands. Marco's text still lingered on his mind.
One job, Cole. Think about it.
He didn't want to think about it. But the weight of twelve grand a month didn't leave room for anything else.
Lily's laugh carried from the bedroom, followed by Claire's gentle voice. The sound cut through the noise in his head. Nathan shut off the tap and wiped his hands on a dish towel, forcing his thoughts away as he walked to the doorway.
Claire was crouched next to Lily, adjusting the straps on her little shoes and checking her breathing in one practiced sweep. The oxygen tank sat in the corner, unused for now.
"Hey, bug," Nathan said, leaning against the doorframe. "You two sound like you're having all the fun without me."
Lily grinned, too bright for a kid who had spent half her life in hospitals. "We were talking about you."
"We were talking about you."Nathan stepped into the room, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "Uh-oh, should I be worried?"
Claire glanced over her shoulder. Her hair was twisted into a loose knot, the style of someone who never really got off shift. "I'm taking her with me today. O2's steady, but that cough's creeping back. I'd rather have there where I can see her."
Nathan nodded. He wanted to argue for normalcy: school, kids her age, but normal didn't exist here anymore. Lily's "classroom" was a corner of the pediatric wing with crayon drawings taped to white walls and the smell of antiseptic in the air.
For three years, Claire had been the bridge between survival and everything else. First as a nurse, then as… more. Not a wife or Lily's mother, but the only person who'd stayed when everything else fell apart.
Claire scooped Lily into her arms and kissed Nathan lightly on the cheek. "We'll be back late. Don't forget you're on dinner duty."
"Frozen pizza counts as dinner?" Nathan asked.
"Only if you actually heat it this time." Her smile was tired but real.
Lily waved as they left. "Bye, Daddy!"
The door clicked shut behind them, and the apartment fell into a silence he could never get used to.
Nathan stood there a second, staring at the empty doorway, when a knock rattled the wood abruptly.
His shoulders stiffened. He was still tense from the last night activities, the silence in the apartment alone made it more telling.
Marco wouldn't knock.
He checked the peephole and saw a woman in plain clothes, posture relaxed but eyes scanning everything.
Nathan opened the door halfway. "Can I help you?"
"Mr. Cole?" Her voice was calm, measured.
"Yeah."
She held up a badge with one hand. "Detective Nina Carver. I'm investigating a hit-and-run involving an SUV last night."
Nathan's blood went cold. He didn't recognize her face, but the second she spoke, the memory clicked. It was the voice on the police scanner.
"I just have a few questions," Nina said. "Do you mind?"
Nathan stepped back automatically. "Sure. Come in."
She didn't. She stayed in the doorway, eyes flicking past him into the apartment without crossing the line. "Hear the sirens last night?"
"Yeah. It's the city. You get used to it."
"Any unusual activity in the neighborhood?"
"No more than the usual." Nathan's voice stayed flat. "We live next to a bar. Someone's always fighting with someone."
Her gaze slid back to him. "Your vehicle hasn't been used in the last twenty-four hours?"
He didn't flinch. "Didn't go anywhere yesterday. Worked a double at the station."
Nina nodded once, tucking something into her mental file. "If you think of anything, here's my card." She slipped it across the doorframe.
Nathan took it with fingers that didn't shake.
For a second, she lingered, studying him in a way that made his skin itch. Then she stepped back. "Thanks for your time."
The second her footsteps faded, Nathan shut the door and leaned against it. His brain was already cataloguing everything she'd seen, every answer he'd given. She hadn't pushed, but her questions were straight to the heart of it.
Another knock hit the door.
Nathan almost swore out loud. He yanked it open, ready for round two, but instead found a neatly dressed woman with a clipboard and a professional smile.
"Mr. Cole? I'm from Child and Family Services. We have a scheduled home visit regarding Lily's evaluation."
Nathan forced his tone neutral. "Right. Come in."
She stepped inside, scanning the small apartment with little tell of someone trained to see everything. The oxygen tank. The meds lined on the counter. The tiny space dressed up to look like stability.
"Claire just left with Lily," Nathan said. "She's a nurse. Keeps her at the hospital most days."
"That's good," the woman said, scribbling something on her clipboard. "Consistent care is important."
Nathan knew what she was really saying: We're watching.
She asked polite questions. About finances, treatments, Lily's progress, and every answer felt like walking a line with no safety net. When she mentioned the upcoming evaluation, the weight of it finally settled in.
"Stability is key, Mr. Cole. Any signs of unsafe environment or financial neglect, and we'll have to intervene."
Take her away. She didn't say it, but Nathan heard it anyway.
When she finally left, the apartment felt smaller. The walls pressed in.
Nathan sat at the kitchen table, staring at the burner phone. The weight of twelve grand a month, of Nina's voice, of the social worker's clipboard all stacked on his chest until breathing hurt.
If I lose her, what's the point of any of this?
He grabbed the phone and dialed.
Marco answered on the first ring. "Took you long enough."
"Tell me where and when," Nathan said.
"Tonight. You'll get the address. No turning back after this, Cole."
"Just send it."
He hung up and set the phone down. The apartment was silent again.
Nathan's eyes found the small bed where Lily had slept that morning. Empty now.
One night to save her. One more to damn himself.