Damien and Christabel sat down with each of their people.
To listen. To learn. To understand.
And the stories they heard broke their hearts.
---
The idea came from Lena.
Not directly. She was three. She didn't know what a story was.
But she had been asking questions.
"Mama, why does Jax always laugh?"
"Because he's happy."
"Why is Nia always serious?"
"Because she's thinking."
"Why does Maya fall down so much?"
Christabel laughed.
"Because she's clumsy."
Lena thought about that.
"Everyone has a story, Mama."
Christabel was quiet.
"Yes, baby. Everyone has a story."
---
That night, she talked to Damien.
"We need to listen to them."
"Listen to who?"
"Our people. Jax. Nia. Tara. Zoe. Maya. Everyone."
"Why?"
"Because they've been with us through everything. And we don't even know their stories."
He was quiet for a moment.
"You're right."
"I know."
"Then let's listen."
---
The first story was Jax.
He sat in the living room. Uncomfortable. Fidgeting.
"You don't have to do this," he said.
"We want to."
"Why?"
"Because you're family."
He was quiet for a moment.
"I wasn't always like this."
"Like what?"
"Happy. Loud. Annoying."
Christabel smiled.
"You're not annoying."
"I'm annoying."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
He told them about his childhood.
Growing up poor. Single mother. Three jobs.
He told them about his father. Absent. Angry. Violent.
He told them about the day he left home. Sixteen. No money. No plan. No future.
He told them about the military. The discipline. The purpose.
He told them about the friends he lost. The ones who didn't come home.
He told them about the nightmares. The guilt. The survivors.
He told them about the day he met Damien. The offer. The building. The family.
"I was lost," he said. "Before you found me."
"You found yourself."
"I found a home."
---
Christabel was crying.
Not the silent tears.
The kind that came from somewhere deep.
Jax looked at her.
"Why are you crying?"
"Because you're not just a soldier. You're a person."
"I'm both."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
The second story was Nia.
She sat in the same chair. Uncomfortable. Still.
"You don't have to do this," Damien said.
"I want to."
"Why?"
"Because you asked."
He was quiet for a moment.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
---
She told them about her childhood.
Growing up in a foster home. Moved around. Never settled.
She told them about the families who didn't want her. The ones who returned her. The ones who hurt her.
She told them about the day she decided to be invisible. To not need anyone. To not let anyone in.
She told them about the CIA. The training. The missions.
She told them about the betrayal. The friend who sold her out. The team that died.
She told them about the years after. Alone. Drifting. Waiting.
She told them about the day she met Christabel. The offer. The building. The family.
"I was invisible," she said. "Before you saw me."
"You were hiding."
"I was surviving."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
Damien was quiet.
His hands were shaking.
Nia looked at him.
"Why are you shaking?"
"Because I know what it's like to be invisible."
"You're not invisible."
"Neither are you."
---
The third story was Tara.
She sat on the floor. Cross-legged. Comfortable.
"You guys are intense," she said.
"We're listening."
"It's weird."
"Weird is good."
She laughed.
---
She told them about her childhood.
Growing up in a big family. Loud. Chaotic. Loving.
She told them about her parents. Immigrants. Hard workers. Sacrifices.
She told them about the day her father got sick. The hospital bills. The debt.
She told them about the jobs she worked. Waitress. Cleaner. Cashier.
She told them about the day she found the building. The job. The chance.
She told them about the first time she saw Christabel. Crying in the garden. Alone.
She told them about the decision to stay. To help. To become family.
"I was tired," she said. "Before you gave me rest."
"You gave yourself rest."
"You gave me a reason."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
The fourth story was Zoe.
She sat on the couch. Arms crossed. Defensive.
"This is stupid," she said.
"Then why are you here?"
"Because you asked."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
---
She told them about her childhood.
Growing up in a small town. No opportunities. No future.
She told them about her mother. Alcoholic. Abusive. Gone.
She told them about her father. Worked himself to death. Literally.
She told them about the day she left. Seventeen. No money. No plan. No hope.
She told them about the years after. Sleeping in cars. Eating garbage. Surviving.
She told them about the day she found the building. The job. The chance.
She told them about the first time she saw Damien. Intimidating. Terrifying. Kind.
She told them about the decision to stay. To trust. To become family.
"I was angry," she said. "Before you gave me peace."
"You gave yourself peace."
"You gave me a chance."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
The fifth story was Maya.
She tripped walking into the room.
Fell on the floor.
Looked up.
"I'm okay."
Christabel laughed.
"We know."
---
She told them about her childhood.
Growing up in a house that wasn't a home.
She told them about her parents. Divorced. Distant. Disappointed.
She told them about the accident. The one that changed everything.
She told them about the months in the hospital. The surgeries. The pain.
She told them about the day she decided to live. To not give up. To fight.
She told them about the years after. Physical therapy. Emotional healing. Slow progress.
She told them about the day she found the building. The job. The chance.
She told them about the first time she saw Lena. Smiling. Laughing. Alive.
She told them about the decision to stay. To love. To become family.
"I was broken," she said. "Before you gave me wholeness."
"You gave yourself wholeness."
"You gave me a mirror."
"Same thing."
"Different intention."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
Lena was full of questions.
"Mama, why are you crying?"
"Because I heard beautiful stories today."
"About what?"
"About people who became family."
Lena thought about that.
"Are we family?"
Christabel smiled.
"Yes, baby. We're family."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's asleep?"
"She's dreaming."
"Of what?"
"Of you."
He walked to her.
Took her hand.
"We have a family now."
"We always had a family."
"Now we know their stories."
First Line of Chapter 186 (Teaser):
"The one hundred forty-first week, the cartels made their final move. Not against Damien. Not against Christabel. Against the family. Against everyone they loved. And the war became personal."