Chapter 8: The Safe Haven
Marcus, now fully restored but visibly shaken by the miracle, carried the limp boy into a secluded cabin near the upstate lake—a safe house known only to his old military circle.
For two days, Toby remained unconscious. Evelyn stayed by his bedside day and night, changing cold compresses on his forehead and whispering comforting stories. She looked at the single lock of white hair near his temple. It was the physical cost of saving Marcus's life—Toby had traded a portion of his own youth and vitality to pull a man back from the brink of death.
On the third morning, Toby’s eyes fluttered open. He looked out the window at the morning mist rising off the lake.
"Are you in pain?" Evelyn asked softly, holding his small hand in hers.
Toby smiled weakly. "No. Just tired. But I had a dream about my mother."
"What was she like?"
"She had kind eyes, like yours," Toby said. "She told me that the light isn't a weapon and it isn't a prize. It's just love that forgot how to hide. She said people are afraid of it because they don't know how to share it."
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Evelyn swallowed the lump in her throat, realizing how much wisdom was trapped inside this fragile soul.
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