Page 140 of Beyond Protection
7:45.
My phone buzzed.
Everyone's head snapped toward the sound.
Michael:Still an hour out.
"Halfway," I said.
Ma's needles stopped. "Halfway to what?"
"The cabin."
She nodded and knitted faster.
8:30
Thunder rumbled somewhere north—rare for a snowstorm, but tonight nothing was predictable. The Christmas tree lights in the corner flickered once, then steadied.
My phone rang. My hand locked around it as everyone stared.
I swiped to answer and put it on speaker.
"Mac." Eamon's voice, slightly breathless. Background noise of highway wind. "We're fifteen minutes out. I wanted you to hear my voice before—"
"Before what?"
"Before radio silence. Once we're on site, no phones."
"Okay."
"You good?"
I looked around the room. My family arranged themselves like human chess pieces. The sweeping police lights painted everything in alarm colors as the snow continued to fall.
"Define good," I said.
A quiet sound that might've been a laugh. "Fair. Stay inside. Lock the doors."
"We've got half of SPD parked on the street."
"Good." A pause. Then: "I'm coming back."
"I know."
"I mean it. I'm coming back to you."
"Drive safe."
"The roads are a mess, but we're moving. Traffic—it's like the city was clearing a path. Never seen anything like it."
Christmas magic, I thought, but didn't say. The universe was bending in our favor.
"Just get back here," I said.
"Soon."
The line went dead.
