Chapter 444
Chapter 444:
Eliza had insisted on one last breath of fresh air before bed. She had the drugged coffee in the thermos, waiting for the right moment.
Kieran scanned the tree line. Something felt off. The birds were too quiet.
“Let’s go back,” Kieran said.
“Five more minutes,” Eliza said, sitting on a bench.
A homeless woman pushed a shopping cart down the path. She wore layers of dirty rags and a hood pulled low, deliberately keeping her head down and avoiding eye contact — playing on the urban instinct to ignore the unfortunate. It was perfect camouflage.
Kieran stepped between Eliza and the woman. Standard protocol.
The woman stopped.
She looked up.
Under the grime, the eyes were familiar. Blue. Cold. Unhinged.
“Hello, Dallas,” Yvonne said.
𝗤𝗎a𝗅it𝗒 𝘵𝗋𝗮n𝘀𝗹𝘢t𝗂𝗼ոѕ 𝗼𝘯
Kieran froze.
“Yvonne,” he said. The modulator didn’t hide the shock.
“You recognize me,” Yvonne laughed. She reached into the cart. “And I recognize you. Even in that ridiculous costume p>
“Step away,” Kieran ordered, drawing his weapon.
“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Yvonne screamed. “Go ahead — shoot me! It won’t change the fact that you’re a fraud!” She spun toward Eliza. “Eliza! Look at him! Look at your hero p>
“Who is she?” Eliza stood up, confused.
“I’m the woman who knows the truth!” Yvonne yelled. “He didn’t leave you to protect you, Eliza! He left because he can’t stand to look at you! He’s a broken thing, and that baby in your belly is a monument to everything he can never be! He thinks it’s a weakness p>
The silence that followed was deafening.
“What?” Eliza whispered.
“He’s a coward!” Yvonne shrieked, her voice echoing off the trees. “He’d rather be a ghost than a crippled father! He’s ashamed — ashamed of you, ashamed of the baby p>
Kieran lowered the gun. His shoulders slumped.
It was out. Not the medical truth, but a twisted version of his emotional one. He felt naked. He felt small. He couldn’t look at Eliza — couldn’t bear to see the doubt.
“Is it true?” Eliza asked. Her voice was barely audible.
Kieran couldn’t answer. A nod would be a lie. A denial would be a lie. He was trapped.
Yvonne cackled. “See? He’s garbage! Useless garbage!” She pulled the knife from her rags. “And now I’m going to remove his little problem p>
She lunged — not at Kieran. At Eliza.
Eliza was too shocked to move. She watched the blade arc toward her stomach.
Then a blur of black.
Kieran didn’t shoot. He didn’t block.
He threw his body in front of her.
Shunk.
The sound of steel entering flesh.
The knife buried itself in his shoulder, just above the collarbone. He grunted — a wet, guttural sound. With his good arm, he backhanded Yvonne. It was a blow fueled by pure rage. She flew backward and struck her head on the pavement. She didn’t get up.
Kieran fell to his knees.
Blood — bright, arterial red — pulsed from the wound, soaking his grey hoodie.
“Dallas!” Eliza screamed.