Page 142 of Beyond Protection
Outside, more police lights appeared. The snow kept falling, thick and fast. Somewhere in that darkness, a woman who thought she was saving me was driving south.
Ma squeezed my hand. "We've survived worse."
I wanted to believe her.
9:22
The police presence grew. Six cruisers now, officers in snow gear walking grid patterns with flashlights. One cop knocked on Ma's door. Marcus answered.
"Detective Yoon. We're establishing a tighter perimeter. Nobody in or out without an ID check."
My phone buzzed.
Eamon:90 minutes from you. How are you holding up?
Mac:Holding. Police everywhere. House is locked down.
Eamon:Good. Stay in the center of the house.
Mac:Drive safe.
Eamon:Always.
Claire stood near the Christmas tree, carefully unhooking ornaments. The fragile ones. Hand-blown glass, inherited ceramics, and delicate things that would shatter if someone stumbled into them.
"Mom," I said.
She looked up. Her hands stopped.
"You don't have to—"
"Yes, I do. These belong to your family. They're irreplaceable. I'm not letting them break tonight."
I crossed to help her.
"The blue one," she said, pointing. "Your father gave that to Ma the year you were born."
I reached up. Unhooked it carefully. The glass was as thin as an eggshell, painted with frost patterns.
"He was terrible at shopping. Always waited until Christmas Eve. But he saw this in a shop window and thought—" She paused. "He thought it looked like hope."
We worked in silence. Unhooking memory after memory. Packing away the breakable pieces of McCabe history while police lights strobed through the windows and snow hammered the roof.
10:03
My phone buzzed.
Eamon:An hour.
Mac:Okay. I love you.
Dots appeared. Stayed visible for several seconds.
Eamon:I love you too. Soon.
10:21
The lights went out.
