Page 76 of The Mercenary's Hidden Heir

Kelli leans back against the wall, arms wrapped tight around herself.

The kids peek out from the bedroom door, sensing the tension even if they don’t understand the words.

I force myself to breathe slow.

Steady.

Think.

"How much?" I grind out.

Silpha gives a hollow laugh.

"Enough to make desperate men do stupid things," she says. "Enough that nobody’s safe anymore."

I nod once.

Processing.

The clock just started ticking faster.

We don’t have a week.

Hell, we might not even have a day.

"You holding up?" I ask, studying her.

Silpha’s mouth twists.

"I’m fine," she lies.

The dark circles under her eyes say different.

The tremble in her hands says louder.

She’s burning herself out trying to keep us alive.

Kelli moves forward, grabbing another cup, filling it, forcing it into Silpha’s hands.

"Drink," she says, no patience in her tone.

Silpha glares at her but drinks anyway.

"I can keep feeding you updates," she mutters between sips. "But it’s getting harder to move without eyes on me."

"We need to hole up," I say. "Stay buried until the freighter docks."

Silpha nods, hollow.

"Yes," she whispers. "If we make it that long."

Silpha slumps against the wall, drained, breathing rough.

We all do.

Nobody says it, but the weight of what’s coming crushes down on us, making the air thick, too heavy to breathe.

The kids shuffle back to their pallet in the corner, curling up small under the worn blankets.

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