Chapter 103: A Place Called Home II

Chapter 103: Chapter 103: A Place Called Home II

Lunch came to a comfortable end.

The conversation gradually faded into companionable silence as everyone finished the last of their meals.

Kai leaned back in his chair with a content sigh.

"I’m officially too full to move."

"You’ll survive," Aunt Mary said, gathering a few empty serving bowls.

"I don’t know..."

"You said that after breakfast yesterday."

"I was younger then."

Aunt Mary shook her head with an amused smile before reaching for Killian’s plate.

"I’ll get that, dear."

Before she could, Killian had already stood.

"It’s alright."

He stacked his plate with his bowl and utensils before carrying everything to the kitchen sink.

Aunt Mary followed behind him.

"Oh, leave those. I’ll wash them later."

Killian had already rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt and turned on the faucet.

"It won’t take long."

"Kai can wash the dishes."

Kai, still comfortably slouched in his chair, looked up.

"...I can?"

"You’ve got two perfectly good hands."

Kai looked down at them as though seeing them for the first time.

"They’ve suddenly stopped working."

"You’ll find they recover remarkably fast."

A quiet chuckle escaped Penelope.

Killian rinsed the last of his bowl before placing it carefully onto the drying rack.

He dried his hands with a kitchen towel and turned back toward Aunt Mary.

"It’s the least that I can do."

His voice was calm, almost apologetic.

Aunt Mary studied him for a moment before smiling warmly.

"Then next time, you can help by eating more."

For just a heartbeat...

The corner of Killian’s mouth lifted.

"Okay." He responded with a small smile.

It was gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

Penelope caught it.

So did Kai.

Neither of them said a word.

Killian nodded politely toward everyone at the table.

"Thank you for lunch."

"Our pleasure," Aunt Mary replied.

"If you need anything," Penelope added, "just knock."

"I will." With that, Killian stepped into the hallway.

The apartment grew noticeably quieter after the front door closed behind him.

Kai watched the door for a second before looking at Penelope. "...I think that’s the first time I’ve seen him smile since we’ve met."

"It is," Penelope admitted softly.

"I wasn’t imagining it, right?" Kai asked.

Erik pushed his chair back. "No, you weren’t."

That single sentence was enough confirmation.

Leaving Aunt Mary and Kai to clear the table, Penelope followed Erik into the living room.

Aurora remained fast asleep in her swing, one tiny fist resting beside her cheek.

Erik crouched beside her, instinctively checking the blanket tucked around her small body before giving the swing another gentle push.

"Still out."

Penelope smiled.

"Let’s hope she stays that way."

For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

The gentle creak of the swing filled the silence.

Then Erik looked toward Penelope.

"We should go back."

She already knew where.

Aurora’s apartment.

Penelope’s expression softened.

"I was thinking the same thing."

"There are probably still clothes... diapers... formula."

"And anything else her mother managed to buy before..." Penelope let the sentence trail off.

Neither of them wanted to finish it.

The image of the apartment flashed through their minds.

The overturned furniture.

The blood.

The woman who had desperately tried to protect her daughter until the infection stole the last of her humanity.

The silence lingered between them.

Finally, Erik spoke.

"If we don’t bring those things back now..."

"They’ll disappear."

He nodded once.

"As more survivors start searching apartments..."

"...someone will eventually take everything."

Penelope looked down at the sleeping infant.

"She deserves to have what’s hers."

Penelope still remembered the first photograph Aunt Mary had placed in her hands.

A picture of two smiling people she couldn’t remember...

Yet somehow missed every single day.

Aunt Mary had never allowed her to forget where she came from.

Nor had she ever made her feel like she belonged any less to the family that raised her.

Penelope wanted Aurora to grow up with that same certainty.

Erik’s gaze softened. "She does." He replied quietly.

Penelope tucked the blanket a little higher over Aurora’s tiny shoulder.

"We’ll stop by while we’re clearing the building."

"It won’t take long."

She nodded.

"Maybe..." Her fingers lightly brushed Aurora’s tiny hand. "...there’s something in that apartment she’ll want someday."

Erik understood what Penelope was implying.

Photographs, journals, perhaps a family keepsake.

Anything that connected Aurora to the woman who had loved her until her final moments.

"We’ll look."

Penelope smiled faintly.

"Thank you."

Aurora sighed softly in her sleep, completely unaware that two people who had known her for less than two days were already doing everything they could to preserve the pieces of a life she would never remember.

Kai finished drying the last plate before placing it inside the cabinet.

"There."

He dusted his hands together.

"I’ve officially contributed to society."

"You’ve contributed enough for one afternoon," Aunt Mary replied, wiping down the kitchen counter.

"I was hoping you’d say that."

Penelope smiled before walking toward the front door.

"Let’s get ready."

Almost immediately, the atmosphere inside the penthouse shifted.

The warmth of lunch quietly disappeared.

Conversation became sparse.

Each person moved with purpose.

Penelope disappeared into her bedroom, returning moments later wearing black tactical cargo pants, a fitted long-sleeved shirt, and sturdy combat boots. Her crimson hair was tied into a high ponytail, keeping it away from her face.

She reached for the black sheath resting beside the front door and fastened it securely to her tactical belt.

The katana settled comfortably against her hip.

A flashlight.

A spare magazine.

Medical supplies.

Everything returned to its designated place.

Across the room, Erik performed his own routine.

He removed the magazine from his suppressed pistol, checked the remaining rounds, then slid it back into place with a practiced motion.

Click.

Satisfied, he holstered the weapon against his thigh before giving the suppressor one final inspection.

Quiet.

Reliable.

Exactly how he preferred it.

Nearby, Kai rested his fire axe across his shoulder before tightening the straps of his fingerless gloves.

He gave the axe a small experimental swing.

"Still my favorite."

Penelope glanced over.

"You say that every time."

Kai grinned.

"It hasn’t let me down yet."

Erik secured the final strap on his holster before looking toward him.

"Let’s hope today isn’t the day."

Kai laughed once.

"It won’t be."

The confidence wasn’t arrogance.

It was trust.

Trust in the weapon.

Trust in the people standing beside him.