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Chapter 12 - Letters from VermontThree hundred miles away, in a quiet, tree-lined suburb of Vermont, life moved at a pace I had forgotten existed.

Every Tuesday, the secure courier arrived with a Manila envelope. Inside, alongside Thomas's encrypted property reports verifying their safety, there was always a fresh piece of construction paper covered in neon crayon strokes.

Mr. Daniel is smiling today, one drawing read, featuring a stick figure with an enormous, jagged smile standing next to a house with crooked windows.

I kept every single drawing locked in the top drawer of my mahogany desk—not in a safe, not hidden behind biometric locks, but right where I could open it whenever the cold shadows of the past tried to creep back in.

One evening, Maria’s voice came through on my encrypted satellite phone—a rare, scheduled check-in.

"She's starting kindergarten next week," Maria said, her voice sounding lighter, clearer than it ever had in the smoky tension of my New York kitchen.

"Has she asked about me?" I asked, leaning back against the leather chair, watching the rain streak down the reinforced glass.

"Every single day," Maria smiled softly through the receiver. "She tells her new friends that her uncle Daniel is a knight who lives in a castle. I didn't correct her. After what you did for us, you are her knight, Daniel."

"Tell her I'm sending her a dragon for her backpack," I replied, a rare chuckle escaping my lips.

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"She'll love that," Maria whispered. "Take care of yourself, Daniel. Don't work too hard."

"I don't work anymore, Maria," I said quietly. "I just manage."

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