“Obviously.”
They stood there for a long moment, father and daughter, partners in the strange war they had waged against corruption and cruelty. Outside, rain began to fall again, but this time they were both inside, warm and safe.
“Hey, Dad.”
Lucy’s voice was muffled against his shoulder.
“Thank you for coming home that night. For believing me. For fighting back.”
“Always,” Brendan said. “Always.”
The rain continued through the night, washing the streets clean. And in a modest house on the edge of town, a father and daughter planned their next move, building a life based not on wealth or status but on something more important:
Justice.
Loyalty.
And the unbreakable bond between two people who refused to look away from darkness, who chose instead to fight it with everything they had.
The Gilberts had thought they could break them.
They had been wrong.
And somewhere in a federal prison, Margaret Gilbert lay awake at last understanding the scale of her mistake. She had left a child in the rain. She had forgotten that child was Douglas Kenny’s granddaughter, Hazel Kenny’s legacy, and Brendan Kenny’s daughter. She had forgotten that some people, when pushed too far, do not break.
They burn the whole world down and build something better from the ashes.
