Chapter 20 - THE LEGEND OF MARLOW STREET
Years later, down in the old neighborhoods behind the shuttered box factory, people still talked about the night Dominic Shaw walked out of the dead-end alley.
Some said he was saved by a ghost. Some said he was rescued by an angel with amber eyes and a scarred dog that could outfight a dozen armed men.
None of the stories were entirely true, and none of them were entirely false. Legends rarely are.
On a quiet Sunday afternoon, a young woman stood by the edge of the newly paved docks, watching the cargo ships move steadily across the bright blue water. A large, gray-muzzled dog trotted faithfully beside her, his amber eyes scanning the horizon with peaceful alertness.
A little boy, no older than seven, ran up to her, tugging on the hem of her jacket. "Hey, Maren! Is it true what the old-timers say? That this whole city used to belong to monsters?"
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Maren looked down at the boy, smiled, and tossed a smooth gray river stone from hand to hand before catching it tightly in her palm.
"It used to," she said softly, her voice carrying the quiet, unshakable strength of someone who had survived the storm. "Kit... but we taught them how to live in the light."
