The vehicle made a noise as it stopped at the edge of a small town near the border, a quiet, dusty place squeezed between Texas and Mexico like a wrinkle that had been forgotten.
Sienna got off with only a backpack and the responsibility of a new identity.
Alexis Reed.
Her fake papers felt too flimsy in her pocket, like a light wind could reveal the deception.
She kept her head down, avoiding the few people who looked at her.
The air smelled like dry dirt and gasoline, completely different from the shiny floors and armed security of the Moretti mansion.
Maybe being unknown had a smell. If it did, this was it.
The small house she rented was so small you could see every corner at once, the kind of place where no one asked questions. A simple bed. A wooden table marked by time.
A window looking out at a peaceful stretch of woods.
It wasn't much, but it felt like a world she was finally allowed to experience.
On her first night, she sat by the window.
The silence was so strong it almost hurt her ears.
So this is peace, she thought.
New to her.
The diner hired her in less than a week. The owner, a gentle woman named Marian, looked at her ID strangely but didn't ask personal questions.
"Can you hold two plates at the same time?"
"Yes."
"Then you're hired."
That was all. No checks into her past. No close looks.
Just a simple job and a list of tasks she could get lost in, cleaning counters, serving coffee, acting like the world wasn't waiting to ruin her.
"Alexis, your order is ready," the cook said every morning.
Alexis.
The name sounded strange to her, but each day it became easier to respond to.
The customers were normal people, ranchers, old couples, truck drivers stopping near the border.
They smiled at her, thanked her, and made simple jokes. No one looked at her like a person to be used for marriage.
No one cleaned blood off their hands between talking.
Sometimes she found herself staring for too long, waiting for the danger hidden in their eyes.
But there wasn't any.
Not here.
The bad dreams still came.
They showed up silently, sneaking under her pillow, wrapping around her neck as she slept.
She would wake up unable to breathe, hands shaking, feeling the baby's cry that never happened… hearing gunshots that weren't real.
Once, she woke up suddenly with a scream. Sweat stuck her hair to her face.
"It's over," she whispered into the darkness.
"It's over. You're safe."
But her voice shook, and the lie felt weak.
Some nights she slept with the light on.
Other nights she sat on the floor with her back against the door, making sure it stayed shut.
The problems didn't go away just because she had crossed a border.
It followed silently, like a shadow.
Each time a car slowed down near the eating place, she felt tense.
Each time a man stared for too long, her heart beat faster.
Each time someone asked where she came from, she told a lie so easily it frightened her.
Still… Everything was okay in the end.
And after a while, she began to feel more relaxed.
She found out which days Marian made pies.
She found out which customers gave good tips and which ones complained about the cost.
She learned to love mornings, with sunlight coming through the window, a cup of warm tea in her hands, and the simple peace of not being chased.
For the first time in her life, she felt like a person.
Not just a Moretti family member. Not something to be used. Not something to be traded.
Just a woman figuring out how to live.
Her one rule became a part of her thinking:
Never be part of any violence.
Never again.
But what was meant to happen, happened anyway.
The storm came with great force one night, rain hitting the ground hard.
Lightning flashed in the sky over and over, making her small cabin very bright for a moment.
Sienna couldn't sleep. Storms made her feel nervous.
They made her think of doors closing hard, of loud voices, of her father's anger.
She pulled her sweater tighter around herself and tried to focus on the sound of rain to calm her mind, steady, never-ending, familiar.
But then something changed the rhythm.
A sound.
Quiet at first.
A branch falling?
No… heavier. Not steady. Like something was being dragged.
Her hand stopped as she reached for the curtain.
Another sound.
A quiet moan.
Someone was out there.
Her heart beat very hard in her chest, and she could feel it in her throat.
Every feeling she had told her to not move. Stay safe inside. Stay away from trouble. Stay away from anything that could destroy the peaceful life she had made.
She breathed out unsteadily and stepped away from the window.
You're not going out there, she told herself.
You left that life behind. You don't owe anyone anything.
She said the words over and over like a prayer.
But then the storm lit up the forest for a brief moment, and she saw him.
A man.
Lying on the ground near the trees, partly crawling, partly being dragged through the mud.
Blood ran down his arm, soaking into the ground under him.
His head was down, his body moving back and forth like he was about to fall down.
She stopped breathing.
"No… no, stay inside," she whispered to herself, her fingers closing tightly into her palms.
"You can't, don't do this."
But her feet were already moving.
The worry that had followed her for months, the worry of being hunted, of being taken back, of being punished, came up like a wave inside her.
This could be a trick. Someone could've been following her. This could be her worst fears coming true.
But even with every warning in her mind, kindness moved faster than fear ever could.
She grabbed her flashlight and put on a jacket, the storm almost pulling it out of her hands as soon as she went outside.
Rain hit her face hard, soaking her hair right away. Her shoes sank into the mud with each step.
"Hey!" she yelled so she could be heard over the noisy wind. "Can you understand what I am saying?"
He didn't say anything back.
He didn't use any words.
But when she went down on her knees next to him, he moved his head just a bit so she could see his face.
A very defined jaw. Looking pale because he had lost blood. A cut on his forehead that was still bleeding.
His eyes moved quickly, not focused, and showed he was in a lot of pain.
"Stay… away," he said in a rough voice.
The warning should have made her run away fast.
But instead, her chest felt tight with a feeling she knew well, fear mixed with caring about him.
"I, I can help you," she said, even though her voice was shaky. "You have to get out of this rainy weather."
He tried to push himself up but couldn't, and he fell back down with a gasp of pain.
Her hands shook as she reached out for him. "Please… let me give you help."
Another bright flash of lightning showed her just how badly he was hurt, his shirt covered in blood, his side bruised and ripped.
She didn't have any idea who he was.
She didn't have any idea what problems he had.
But she just couldn't leave him there to die.
Even if it meant risking everything she had made for herself.
She slid her arm under his, not caring about the warm and sticky feeling of blood.
"Lean on me," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "Just until we get to the small house."
He let out a weak breath, a sound that was part pain and part giving up.
Slowly, he let his weight lean against her.
The rain covered both of them as she helped him stand up.
Each step felt like she was carrying a huge rock. Her clothes stuck to her body.
But she didn't let go. Not when he almost fell. Not when he almost collapsed.
"Almost there," she whispered, even though she wasn't sure if he could hear her.
The dim light of the small house finally showed through the heavy rain.
She almost fell to her knees from relief.
Once inside, she helped him to the small couch, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she closed the door behind them.
The man leaned forward, breathing hard, his eyes partly closed.
Sienna just stood there, soaked and shaking, watching the storm outside.
She didn't ha
ve any idea who he was.
She didn't want to know what violence came with him.
But she had broken her only rule as soon as she went out into that storm.
And deep down, she already understood,
This was the moment everything would change.