Ava dropped the radio, knelt in the snow beside the wounded woman, and took her cold hand.
And as sirens began to wail in the distance, Ava realized something terrifying—
someone had shot police officers in a blizzard and left them to die… so what would they do to the little girl who just called it in?
The sirens grew louder, cutting through the wind like an angry promise. Ava stayed low beside the injured woman, Officer Tessa Ramirez, whose eyes fluttered open and closed as if the storm itself was pulling her under.
“You… shouldn’t be here,” Tessa rasped.
“I called for help,” Ava said quickly, voice shaking. “You have to stay awake.”
Tessa tried to nod, failed, then fumbled at her pocket with trembling fingers. She pulled out a small photo—an adorable toddler grinning at the camera.
“My son,” Tessa whispered. “Mateo… tell him…”
“No,” Ava said fiercely, clutching Tessa’s hand tighter. “You tell him. You have to.”
Tessa’s gaze finally sharpened, focusing on Ava’s hollow cheeks, tangled hair, and the jacket pinned together like it had survived a war.
