The twenty-eighth week, Marco found his daughter.
But she wasn't alone.
She was with them.
And she wasn't a victim.
She was a soldier.
---
Her name was Katerina.
Nineteen years old. Dark hair. Dark eyes. The kind of face that looked innocent until you looked closer.
She had been missing for two weeks.
Marco had searched everywhere. Called everyone. Begged for help from people who owed him favors.
No one knew where she was.
No one had seen her.
No one was willing to get involved.
Until she called him.
"Papa."
"Katerina. Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Are you safe?"
"I'm with them."
"Who?"
"The people who took me. The people who made me take the photograph."
"Why are you with them?"
"Because they're my family now."
---
Marco dropped the phone.
His hands were shaking.
His face was pale.
"What is it?" Christabel asked.
"She's with them."
"Who?"
"The people who took her. The people who threatened us."
"Why?"
"She says they're her family now."
---
Damien took the phone.
Listened to the recording Marco had made of the call.
Katerina's voice was calm. Steady. Not the voice of someone who was being held against her will.
"She's not a prisoner," Damien said.
"No."
"She's a volunteer."
"No."
"She's chosen them over you."
Marco looked at him.
"I know."
---
The next few days were chaos.
Marco tried to find his daughter. Tried to reach her. Tried to convince her to come home.
She refused.
Every call. Every message. Every plea.
She refused.
"I don't understand," Marco said. "I raised her. I protected her. I loved her."
"You kept her hidden," Christabel said. "You kept her a secret. You never let her be part of your life."
"To protect her."
"To control her."
Marco stared at her.
"I was trying to keep her safe."
"You were trying to keep her yours. There's a difference."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
She read her daughter a story. Not a baby book. A real story. One of her favorites.
"There was a woman who was afraid of losing her daughter," she read. "Until she realized that her daughter was never hers to lose."
Lena stared at her.
"Bah," she said.
"That's right," Christabel said. "Bah."
---
Damien was in the doorway.
"She said it again."
"She said it to me."
"She said it to both of us."
She closed the book.
Set it on the nightstand.
"She's going to be independent."
"She's going to be just like you."
"God help the world."
"God help anyone who tries to control her."
---
They stood over the crib together.
Lena was asleep. Her tiny chest rose and fell.
"Do you think Katerina will come back?" Christabel asked.
"I don't know."
"Do you think Marco can save her?"
"I don't know."
"Do you think we can win this war?"
He put his arm around her.
"I know we can."
"How?"
"Because we're fighting for something worth fighting for."
---
The next morning, Katerina called again.
Not Marco.
Christabel.
"I know who you are," Katerina said.
"Then you know I'm not someone to threaten."
"I'm not threatening you. I'm warning you."
"Warning me about what?"
"About what's coming. About what they're planning. About what they're going to do to your family."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I don't want to be like them."
"Then come home."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because they'll kill me."
"Marco can protect you."
"Marco couldn't protect me from them. That's why I left."
---
Christabel was quiet for a moment.
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Then tell me what they're planning."
Katerina was quiet for a moment.
"They're going to take your daughter."
Christabel's blood went cold.
"When?"
"Soon."
"How?"
"I can't tell you."
"Katerina—"
"I've said too much already." The line went dead.
---
Christabel stared at the phone.
Her hands were shaking.
Her heart was pounding.
Damien walked into the room.
"What is it?"
"She called."
"Who?"
"Katerina."
"What did she say?"
Christabel looked at him.
"They're going to take Lena."
---
The penthouse became a fortress.
Guards at every door. Cameras in every room. No one in or out without approval.
Christabel didn't sleep.
Didn't eat.
Didn't leave Lena's side.
"You're going to exhaust yourself," Damien said.
"I don't care."
"You can't protect her if you're not functioning."
"I can't protect her if I'm not watching her."
"She has guards."
"The guards didn't stop someone from taking a photograph of her."
"The guards didn't know about Katerina."
"Now they do."
---
That night, Damien put Lena to bed.
Not Christabel. Him.
He read her a story. Not a baby book. A real story. One of his favorites.
"There was a man who was afraid of losing everything," he read. "Until he realized that the only thing he couldn't lose was the love of his family."
Lena stared at him.
"Bah," she said.
"That's right," he said. "Bah."
---
Christabel was in the doorway.
"She said it again."
"She said it to me."
"She said it to both of us."
He closed the book.
Set it on the nightstand.
"She's going to be fierce."
"She's going to be just like you."
"God help the world."
"God help anyone who tries to take her."
---
They stood over the crib together.
Lena was asleep. Her tiny chest rose and fell.
"We need to find Katerina," Christabel said.
"Before they find us."
"Yes."
"Before they take our daughter."
"Yes."
"Then we find her."
He took her hand.
"Together."