2 septembre 2026

THE DAY THE SHERIFF STOPPED BEING PATIENT

Her small fingers clutched his shirt like she was afraid he might disappear too.

“It’s okay,” he whispered again, softer this time. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

She was still shaking.

Still humming—but now it was uneven, broken by tiny sobs that cut straight through him.

He pressed his cheek against her damp hair.

And something inside him… shifted.

For years, he had been calm.

Measured.

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