DYLAN
The car couldn't move fast enough.
Every second between her voice on the phone and the moment I could hold her in my arms again felt like a lifetime suspended in agony.
When we spotted the old truck pulled to the side of the road near the Jahi outskirts, my heart stopped.
Then it started again — violently.
Hermione was there.
Covered in soot. Bloody. Barefoot.
But standing.
Alive.
I didn't wait for the car to stop. I threw the door open before the tires fully rolled to a halt and sprinted across the dirt like a madman.
"Hermione!"
She turned at the sound of my voice, and the moment our eyes met, I broke.
She ran too, straight into my arms. I caught her, lifting her off the ground, holding her so tightly I was afraid I'd hurt her — but she clung to me like she needed me just to breathe.
"God," I whispered against her temple, inhaling the mix of smoke and her scent. "I thought I lost you."
"You didn't," she choked. "You didn't."
Behind us, I heard Daniel's voice.
"Lia—?"
I glanced up just in time to see Lia stumble toward him. She looked worse than Hermione — shaking, exhausted, her mouth opening as if to speak but failing.
Daniel caught her like gravity had finally let go.
There was nothing professional or restrained about the way he held her. His hands moved like he'd memorized every inch of her — protective, familiar, and desperate — his mouth pressed into her hair like a prayer.
Lia buried her face into his chest, and for a second, the world stopped again.
Hermione jerked her head up in my arms. Our eyes met.
"They're…?" she whispered, dazed.
I nodded slowly, watching Daniel hold Lia like he'd lose his soul if he didn't.
"They are."
Claire walked up behind them, her clothes smudged but intact, her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised as she glanced at all the emotional chaos unfolding in front of her.
"Okay," she said dryly. "So… are hugs just for people who nearly died, or do the emotionally neglected writers get one too?"
Hermione laughed — a real one, full and breathless — and turned to pull Claire into a hug.
"Come here, you dramatic brat."
Daniel grinned faintly. "That sounds about right."
I chuckled, stepping back just enough to wrap Claire in a one-armed hug along with Hermione. Even Lia managed a soft laugh, her fingers still tangled in Daniel's shirt.
Claire squeezed us both, then tilted her head with mock seriousness. "Not to be clingy, but if someone doesn't get me food and Wi-Fi in the next ten minutes, I will start crying."
"You're getting both," Hermione promised, wiping at her face. "Just as soon as we get you out of these clothes and into a proper villa."
The drive back was quiet, filled with exhaustion and unspoken emotion. When we pulled through the gates of the luxurious Abuja estate, with its towering palms and clean white stone walls, it finally felt like we could exhale.
Claire slumped onto the villa's plush sofa the second we entered. "Not to sound dramatic again, but this place is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
Lia smiled weakly, resting her head on Daniel's shoulder.
Hermione took my hand, squeezing it tightly.
"She's still out there," she said softly.
"I know."
"She's going to try again."
"She won't get the chance."
And this time — I meant it more than ever.
We didn't sleep.
Not really.
Even after the girls were bathed, fed, and wrapped in clean sheets, even after I tucked Hermione into my arms on the king-sized bed of the Abuja villa, peace was a stranger.
My body lay still beside her, but my mind raged.
The fire.
Seraphine's death.
Lia and Claire kidnapped.
And Isabelle — no, Niah — somewhere out there, unhinged and armed with more secrets than we ever saw coming.
I stared at the ceiling in the dark, Hermione's breathing soft beside me. I hadn't let go of her all night. I wouldn't.
By dawn, I was already up, pacing by the floor-to-ceiling windows as the golden Nigerian sun poured over the city. Abuja was stunning — a place of beauty, sophistication, and promise. Skyscrapers glinted in the distance, quiet luxury humming in every corner of the neighborhood we'd rented.
I made the call.
"Daniel. You up?"
"I've been up. Got the facial recognition software scanning every airport camera for her last known image. Nothing yet."
"She won't run far," I said, jaw tight. "She planned this for too long. She wants to watch it all fall apart."
"Yeah. And she's sick enough to enjoy it."
I clenched my fists. "I want everything on her. Birth records, past aliases, every student from Harvard she ever contacted. If she even called a cab in the last 48 hours, I want to know who drove it."
"You got it," Daniel said. "And Dylan…"
"Yeah?"
"I saw the way she looked at you. Isabelle. She was obsessed. This isn't just revenge. It's possession."
I hung up and exhaled slowly, turning toward the bed.
Hermione stirred, sitting up. Her hair was tousled, eyes heavy, but there was steel in her voice.
"Did you find her?"
"Not yet."
She nodded slowly, pushing the sheets aside. "Then I'm coming with you today."
I was across the room before she could stand, kneeling beside her.
"No."
Her eyes flared. "Dylan—"
"I let you go once. You nearly burned alive. Do you know what that did to me?"
"I saved them."
"I know," I whispered, pressing my forehead to hers. "And I've never been prouder. But if she gets to you again, Hermione, I won't survive it. Do you understand?"
She was quiet, eyes swimming with tears she refused to let fall. "Then promise me… when you find her…"
"She won't touch you again," I swore. "That's my promise."
A knock at the door broke the silence.
Adrian stepped in, tablet in hand, face pale.
"We found her."
My heart slammed into my ribs.
"Where?"
"She rented an abandoned farm estate twenty minutes out from the city. Surveillance shows deliveries. Fuel. Food. Chemicals. She's preparing something. We think… a second attack."
Hermione tensed behind me. I stood.
"Send the location to Daniel. I want full tactical analysis in ten minutes. Adrian, gear up. You're coming with me."
"What about Hermione?" he asked cautiously.
"She stays. Guarded. Doors locked. If I find out she stepped one foot outside—"
"I won't," she said. "Not until you come back."
I turned, kissed her — hard, lingering — then rested my hand over her heart.
"I'm coming back."