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𝖦𝖮𝖮𝖣𝖡𝖸𝖤

┗━━━༻❁༺━━━┛

Sophie shifted the weight of her baby in her arms, cradling the two-month-old close as she approached the thick glass barrier. She stepped up to the guard's station, her fingers tightening around the baby's soft blanket. The officer behind the desk barely glanced up at her, his face set in a bored, detached expression.

"I'm here to see Malakai Anderson," she said.

The guard finally looked up, his gaze flicking between her and the baby. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Name?"

"Sophie... Anderson." The name still tasted foreign on her tongue. "His wife."

The guard typed something into his system before giving her a slow once-over. "You know the rules?"

Sophie swallowed. "I know."

The guard nodded, pushing a clipboard toward her. "Sign in."

She scrawled her name.

"Go ahead. He'll be out in a few minutes. Room eleven."

Sophie nodded, adjusting her grip on her baby as she made her way down the corridor. The walls were a sickly shade of beige, scuffed and worn from years of use. A guard waited at the door to the visitation room, barely sparing her a glance as he pulled it open and gestured for her to enter.

She settled into the frigid metal chair, her arms instinctively tightening around the tiny bundle in her grasp.

Sophie glanced down, running a single, gentle finger along the baby's delicate cheek. The baby stirred slightly but remained asleep, their tiny mouth parting with a sigh.

Then, the door creaked open.

Kai stepped in, his presence filling the space as if the walls themselves leaned in to accommodate him. He looked different—thinner, his jumpsuit hanging a little loose, but his posture was still commanding. But it was his eyes that sent the familiar shiver down her spine—those piercing, calculating black eyes that locked onto her.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he sat down across from her.

"Give us a moment, would you?" Kai's voice was smooth, composed, but laced with authority. It wasn't a request—it was an order.

The two guards hesitated for only a second before stepping out, shutting the door behind them.

Sophie didn't flinch. She didn't need them. Not now.

Kai's gaze finally dropped to the small bundle in her arms. His expression shifted, curiosity flickering behind his eyes as he leaned forward slightly.

"Is this my son?"

Sophie met his gaze head-on. "Daughter."

Silence stretched between them. Then, slowly, Sophie rose from her chair. She stepped around the small table and stopped beside of him.

For a moment, she hesitated.

Then, without a word, she extended the baby toward him.

Kai reached out, his hands closing gently around his daughter for the first time.

Kai's hands trembled slightly as they closed around something so small, so fragile. His daughter. His fingers curled under her tiny body, cradling her carefully, as if afraid she might shatter beneath his touch. For a moment, his breath hitched, his usually sharp, commanding presence dulled by something unspoken.

He looked down at the sleeping infant, swaddled in a soft pink blanket, her delicate features barely visible beneath the edge of the fabric. She was so impossibly tiny, her face peaceful, untouched by the world's cruelty. His thumb brushed against her cheek, and she stirred slightly, her little lips parting with a sleepy sigh.

"What's her name?" Kai asked, almost hesitant.

Sophie didn't hesitate. "Winter."

A tense silence followed. She watched his face closely, waiting, searching. And for the briefest of moments, something flickered in his eyes—something raw, something that almost made her see him again. Not the cult leader. Not the madman. But Kai. Her Kai. The boy who hadn't yet drowned in his own delusions.

But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. His lips pressed into a tight line, his shoulders tensed.

"Winter," he repeated, rolling the name over his tongue like he was testing its weight. A slow exhale left his lips, his grip tightening around his daughter just slightly.

Sophie took a slow, steady breath. She watched Kai cradle their daughter, saw the way his fingers lingered against Winter's tiny hand, but it didn't soften her resolve. If anything, it only strengthened it.

Sophie circled the table before lowering herself into the chair, her gaze fixed on them, taking in every detail.

"You sit there, holding her like she's something precious. But you and I both know what kind of world she's going to grow up in. A world filled with men—men who think women are objects, who believe power is their birthright, who take and take without a second thought."

Kai's smirk twitched, but he didn't interrupt. He just watched her, silent, waiting.

"But the difference is," Sophie continued, leaning forward, "she's not going to grow up under your influence. She's not going to look up to you. She's not going to be some lost, desperate girl searching for meaning in the words of a man who only knows how to manipulate and destroy. She'll never be fooled by men like you, and I'll make damn sure of that."

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "You won't be there to teach her to be quiet, to be obedient. You won't be there to tell her that her worth is measured by how much a man desires her. You won't be there to turn her into some pawn in your bullshit crusade for power."

Sophie's gaze flickered down to Winter's sleeping face. A lump formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down. "She's going to grow up knowing she's more than what men see her as. She's going to be smart, strong, and independent. And when the time comes, when she meets men who think they can control her, manipulate her, break her down like you tried to break me—she'll know better. She'll fight back."

Her eyes snapped back to Kai's, cold and unyielding. "And the best part? She'll do it all without you."

A heavy silence settled between them. Kai's jaw tightened, his grip on Winter shifting just slightly. For a moment, Sophie wondered if she saw something crack in his expression—hurt, maybe. Anger. But she didn't care.

She sat back, crossing her arms. "You said you wanted to build a better world, Kai. Well, congratulations. I'm gonna make damn sure my daughter grows up in one with fewer men like you."

Sophie inhaled shakily, her chest tightening as she looked at him—really looked at him. The man sitting across from her wasn't the same one she'd fallen in love with all those years ago. But beneath the blue jumpsuit, the sharp, almost manic gleam in his eyes, there was still something familiar. Something that made her heart ache despite everything.

"I still love you. Not this... version of you, not the man you became when you let all of this consume you. But the man you used to be. The one who made me feel safe when the world was falling apart. The one who held me like I was the only thing that mattered. I loved you, and only you."

He didn't speak, but he didn't have to.

Sophie shook her head, staring down at the table as she let out a small, humorless laugh. "I have this dream sometimes," she admitted, her voice distant. "It's stupid, really. But it feels so real. In the dream, we're happy. All of us. You, me, Micah... and Winter." She swallowed, the lump in her throat growing. "I'm in the kitchen making breakfast, and you're sitting at the table with Micah, talking about something ridiculous, some conspiracy theory or whatever nonsense you used to get lost in."

She smiled, blinking away the tears that burned at the corners of her eyes. "And you've got Winter on your lap, bouncing her on your knee while you argue with Micah about whether or not the moon landing was real. And it's just... peaceful. No cult, no fear, no chaos. Just us. A family."

Sophie met his gaze again, her vision slightly blurred. "And every time I wake up, for just a second, I forget that it's not real. That it'll never be real. Because the man I had that life with doesn't exist anymore." She exhaled sharply, willing herself to stay strong. "And that's what kills me the most, Kai. Not that you're in here, not even that you did the things you did. It's that you let all of it take over until there was nothing left of the man I loved."

A heavy silence settled between them, stretching too long. Kai stared at her, his hands gripping their daughter just a little tighter, but he said nothing.

Sophie wiped at her eyes quickly, forcing herself to straighten her spine. "So yeah, I still love you. And maybe a part of me always will. But I love our daughter more. I love Micah more. And I won't let them grow up waiting for a dream that'll never come true."

Sophie sniffed, dragging in a deep breath as she blinked away the last of her tears. The heaviness in her chest remained, but she forced herself to push through it, leveling her gaze at the man in front of her.

Her voice was steady when she finally spoke. "I know what you're planning." It wasn't a question, nor was it an accusation. It was a statement, one she knew to be true.

Kai's grip on Winter tightened slightly, his knuckles going white.

"Knowing you," Sophie continued, tilting her head just slightly, "you have this whole place wrapped around your finger. You've probably got half the guards worshiping the ground you walk on. I know you, Kai." Her voice was calm, almost eerily so, but there was a sharp edge to it.

She leaned forward, closing the small space between them, her eyes locking onto his, unyielding. "And because I love you—because I still see the man I fell in love with somewhere beneath all of this—I hope you'll stay here. Do your time. Get better." Her voice wavered for the first time, but she pushed through it. "I don't want to see you dead."

Kai shifted, his jaw tightening as he adjusted his hold on their daughter, his entire body coiled like a spring. "Is that a threat?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous.

Sophie exhaled slowly, shaking her head. "It's a warning."

"And don't come looking for us," Sophie said, her voice softer now, but no less firm. "Because I know you will. You'll try to find us. You'll tell yourself it's because you love us, because you want to protect us. But it won't be for us, Kai." Her gaze darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "It'll be for you. For your ego. And I won't let our children be pawns in whatever war you're still fighting in your head."

Kai's expression hardened.

"You're leaving?" he finally asked.

Sophie nodded. "Our kids deserve a better life," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "A life where they're not haunted by their father's mistakes. Where they're not forced to carry the weight of everything you've done."

"You're my wife," Kai seethed, his grip tightening around their daughter, as if holding onto her would somehow keep Sophie tethered to him.

Sophie inhaled sharply, rising from her chair, her gaze never leaving his. "We'll see how long that lasts," she murmured, "depending on your decision."

The tears that had stained her cheeks still clung to her skin, the remnants of everything she had fought to hold in.

She bent down, cradling his shaved head in her trembling hands, her fingers tracing the smooth curve of his skull as if memorizing the shape of him one last time. Then, with a shuddering breath, she pressed her lips against the crown of his head, lingering there for a moment longer than she should have. The warmth of him, the familiarity of his scent, it all threatened to unravel her resolve. Her arms shook as she pulled away, a fresh wave of tears burning behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

"Goodbye, Malakai," she whispered.

Carefully, she reached down, taking their daughter from his arms, her touch lingering just a moment before she stepped back.

She turned, making her way toward the door, but before she could leave, his voice stopped her.

"Sophie?"

She paused, glancing back over her shoulder, waiting, bracing herself for whatever he needed to say.

Kai's gaze was unreadable, his voice quieter than before, almost vulnerable. "In another life... would we be better?"

The question stole the breath from her lungs.

Her lips parted, but no sound came at first. Finally, she nodded. "Yeah..."

Kai held her gaze, the hint of something—regret, longing, maybe even love—flickering in the depths of his black eyes.

"'Til the next one."

Sophie's lips twitched, the ghost of a smile passing over them before she turned away. Without another word, she stepped through the door, leaving him behind, her daughter pressed tightly to her chest as she walked away for good.

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