When the Dust Settles

Davina's release from the hospital was quiet. No media. No announcements. Just a black SUV waiting at the side entrance, and two of Gina's most trusted men shadowing every step.

The girl looked smaller than usual. Pale. Thinner. Her sapphire eyes—so much like her mother's—lacked their usual sparkle.

But when she saw Dave waiting at the car, arms open, she broke into the first smile Gina had seen in days.

"Daddy," she whispered.

He caught her in his arms, lifting her gently. "Hey, Little D. You scared us."

"I had a bad dream," she said into his shoulder. "But I woke up. I think because I heard you singing."

He blinked rapidly, hiding his eyes from her. "Then I'll sing forever if that's what it takes."

---

Gina hadn't known she was awake.

Hours earlier, after the transfusion, she and Dave had stepped outside Davina's hospital room for a whispered conversation.

"She deserves to know," Dave had said. "She's old enough."

"I wanted to tell her properly," Gina replied. "In time."

"But now that she's alive because of him," Dave said, voice rough, "how long can we keep pretending I'm just some man who sings her lullabies?"

"I'm her mother," Gina had said. "And I had my reasons."

That was when they heard it.

A soft shuffle from the cracked hospital door.

Davina was sitting up in bed, her IV still taped to her arm. Her small voice carried into the hallway.

"You're my dad?"

They rushed in, panic in Gina's eyes, but Davina wasn't crying.

She was smiling.

"Does that mean I get to keep you now?" she asked Dave. "Not just when I'm sick?"

Dave's knees nearly buckled. He sat at her bedside, nodding. "If you want me to stay, I'll never leave again."

She blinked. "Good. 'Cause I think Mommy missed you too."

---

Back at the house, everything was different.

Gina had quietly moved them into a secure estate just outside the city—one of her older, hidden properties that could be cloaked from most prying eyes. Davina needed peace. Safety.

For the first time, Dave entered the space not just as a guest, but as a father.

He helped set up her room. Watched cartoons with her. Learned her laugh.

But he also noticed things. Cameras hidden in flower vases. Doors with biometric locks. A panic room disguised as a closet.

"You really built a fortress," he muttered one night.

Gina stood at the window, arms folded. "She'll never grow up vulnerable. Not like I did."

Dave walked over, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "You don't have to do it alone anymore."

Her voice was barely a whisper. "That's the part that terrifies me."

---

The next day, Davina asked a question at breakfast that made Gina freeze.

"Why didn't you and Daddy get married?"

Dave nearly choked on his toast.

Gina's lips twitched. "That's... complicated."

"Do you love him?" Davina asked innocently.

Dave was staring at Gina now, eyes unreadable.

Gina gave her daughter a small, steady smile. "Yes. I do."

Davina turned to Dave. "Do you love Mommy?"

Dave nodded slowly. "With everything I have."

"Then you should get married," she said simply, going back to her cereal.

The adults exchanged a long look. The kind that said: If only it were that simple.

---

That night, Gina stood over Davina's bed, watching her sleep.

Her heart clenched with something too complex to name. Guilt. Love. Fear.

She didn't hear Dave enter until he placed a gentle hand on her waist.

"She's incredible," he murmured.

"She is."

They stood in silence, watching the rise and fall of Davina's breath.

Then Dave said, "I want this. Us. Her. The whole messy, terrifying thing."

Gina turned to him, her face pale but resolute. "Then fight for it. Because I promise you, it won't stay quiet for long."

---

Outside the estate, hidden beyond the outer gate, a camera lens blinked red.

Someone was watching.

And soon, everything would begin to unravel.