Page 56 of Veil of Ashes

He shrugs. “Because it is.”

Then he reaches for the folder.

He gives me a job. Not today. But one I’ll owe later.

A promise I didn’t ask for.

I take it anyway.

Because I’m too tired to argue.

Too wired into the life to pretend I’m not still part of it.

We don’t speak after that. Just space and dust and the sound of him walking away.

I stay behind.

Sit on the edge of a broken pew and stare at a sunbeam cutting through the ceiling.

Last night still lingers on my skin.

So does the blood.

I don’t know if I’m doing this for Sylvara, my brother, or some warped piece of myself that still thinks redemption’s real.

All I know is this—

I’ve got a name no one knows and a war no one sees coming.

And I’m not done yet.

I don’t even hear the engine until it’s too late.

The chapel door blows open, light spears across the floor, and the sun hits just right—just wrong—when the black SUV kicks up dust across the empty lot. Tires scream. Doors fly open.

Three men spill out—hard eyes, clipped movements, rifles already rising.

Cartel.

Not Veyra. But close enough.

“Down!” Ettore shouts behind me.

The first bullet hits the chapel’s front door, carving through old wood and stone like it was made of paper. Then the hail starts. Shards of plaster explode from the wall to my left.

I don’t think. I move.

My knife is already in my hand before I register pulling it.

One of them flanks left, close, faster than he should be. I lunge and bury the blade beneath his chin, drag it clean across. His breath catches on blood, then stops altogether.

Gunfire rips the ground near my feet.

The second guy reaches me before I can duck—swings wild, pistol aimed too high. I slam his wrist into the chapel’s stone pillar, once, twice. He drops the gun. I catch it mid-fall.

Turn.

Squeeze the trigger.

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