“Where are we stashing it?”
“There’s a supply barn up ahead,” Seven replied. “Old farm property. Private. We’ve used it before. We’ll roll the rig inside, cover it, and take the van parked in the west bay. Black, unmarked, seats eight. Full tank. Keys in the visor.”
“You’re efficient,” Sayer said, cracking the door open as they slowed near a pair of aging barn doors tucked behind a crop of trees.
“I’m alive,” Seven replied. “That’s not luck.”
Diamond pulled the rig in slow, the barn doors already half-open like someone knew they’d be arriving. The inside was empty except for a few hay bales, some old equipment, and the van parked off to the side—just as Seven described.
She cut the engine and sat still for a beat, listening to the engine tick as it cooled.
“Alright,” she said. “Let’s get them moving. Quiet and fast.”
Sayer and Seven moved like clockwork, helping Carla and the girls out of the sleeper and into the van, handing off their few belongings. Once the van was pulled out of the barn Diamond gave the truck a final glance, then checked the perimeter one last time before locking the barn behind them.
“We’ll be back,” she muttered under her breath.
Then she climbed into the passenger seat of the van, letting Seven take the wheel this time.
“Where to?” she asked.
Seven shifted into drive and gave a small grin. “Where the map ends.”
Chapter Thirty
The van rolled smoothlyover the backroad, the hum of the tires blending with the low rattle of gear in the back. Seven drove with one hand on the wheel, gaze focused, posture relaxed, but alert. Diamond sat up front beside her, watching the tree-lined road stretch out ahead like it had no end.
In the back, the mood was quieter now different from the tension of earlier. Heavier, yet softer.
Carla sat on the rear bench seat with one daughter tucked into each side, their little bodies pressed against her like they were trying to melt into her skin. One of them clutched the brownie bag tight in her lap, the crinkled plastic rustling with every bump in the road. The other had her thumb in her mouth, eyes half-closed but still watching the passing trees through the van window.
Diamond glanced at them through the rearview mirror. Carla had both arms wrapped around her girls; her head bowed slightly between them as she whispered something soft—so soft even Diamond couldn’t catch it over the low whir of the tires. A lullaby, maybe. Or a promise.
They were finally starting to believe they were safe. For now.
Sayer sat in the middle row, angled slightly back so he could keep an eye on all of them. His knee bounced with quiet energy, but his expression had eased, the sharp edge dulled for the moment.
“You girls doing, okay?” he asked gently.
The older one nodded without looking up. The younger just clung tighter to Carla’s shirt.
Carla looked up at him, eyes tired but grateful. “They’re trying. We all are.”
Diamond didn’t say anything, she just reached into the side pocket and passed a bottle of water back over her shoulder. Sayer grabbed it and handed it back to Carla who took it with a small smile.
Seven finally broke the quiet. “Another hour,” she said. “Then we’ll stop. After that, it’s just backroads and fields until we hit the final turn.”
“Safehouse is still good?” Diamond asked.
“Yeah. No digital footprint. No heat. We had it cleared and stocked two days ago. We’ll go dark once we’re inside.”
Diamond nodded and let her head fall back against the seat, eyes closing for just a moment.
Behind her, the girls had finally stopped fidgeting. One of them had fallen asleep, cheek pressed to Carla’s shoulder. The other was curled against her chest, her breath even and steady.
Carla brushed a hand through their hair, slow and gentle.
“You’re safe,” she whispered. “I swear to you—you’re safe now.”
