The apartment was entirely silent save for the muffled rhythm of the snow hitting the glass and the soft, steady breathing of the little girl asleep on the sofa.

Dawn broke cold and sharp, casting a pale, golden glow across the snow-covered rooftops of Seattle. Sophie stirred slowly, her eyelids fluttering open as she registered the unfamiliar warmth of a real bed and a heavy woolen blanket. For a terrifying second, her instincts took over—the survival mechanism of a child who had learned that safety was always temporary. She sat bolt upright, clutching her rag doll, Lily, so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Then she remembered. The man. Victor.

The apartment was quiet. A rich, comforting aroma drifted from the kitchen—scrambled eggs, buttered toast, and freshly brewed coffee.

Sophie crept off the sofa, her bare feet padding silently across the hardwood floor. She peeked around the corner into the kitchen. Victor stood by the stove wearing a simple grey sweater, flipping pancakes with a concentration that looked completely foreign on a man who usually ran a multi-million-dollar real estate investment firm.

"Morning, Sophie," Victor said without turning around, his voice calm and gentle. "Merry Christmas."

Sophie froze, hugging Lily to her chest. "Merry Christmas, Mr. Victor."

Victor turned around, placing the plate of pancakes on the counter. He smiled warmly, keeping his movements slow so as not to frighten her. "How did you sleep?"

"Good," she whispered, stepping closer to the warmth of the stove. "It was... very warm."

"I'm glad." Victor pulled out a chair at the small kitchen table. "Are you hungry? I made blueberry pancakes. My daughter Clare loves them. I hope you do, too."

Sophie climbed up onto the chair, her legs dangling far above the floor. She looked down at the plate loaded with food—more than she had eaten in days. Without a word, she picked up a fork and began to eat, trying desperately to maintain table manners, though the hunger was evident in the speed of her small bites.

Victor watched her with a heavy lump in his throat. He sat across from her, sipping his coffee, his mind racing with the legal documents Marcus Vance was currently drafting across the city.