Page 31

KYRA

K yra drifted behind her sisters as they pushed overflowing carts down the aisles of the supermarket. Soraya and Yasmin led the charge, consulting lists and debating quantities, while Parisa and Rana collected more items, their voices a comforting hum in Kyra's ears.

Their carts were filled to the brim with everything from canned goods to fresh produce.

The shelves were a blur of color and brand names that Kyra barely recognized.

She had never been one for shopping trips.

Most of her remembered life, she'd acquired supplies by raiding the regime's installations.

The domestic scene felt alien yet familiar in some way, a reminder of bonds she'd been robbed of by time and cruelty.

She and Fenella hovered near the edge of the group, slightly apart but content to be included. The air was thick with the scent of disinfectant and artificial citrus, overlaid by the sharper tang of coffee from the in-store café.

It was a mundane backdrop for the tension coiling beneath her skin.

Instinctively, she reached for her pendant, closing her hand around the stone and taking comfort in its cool reassurance.

Was it cool, though?

It felt a little warm, but that could be just warmth from her body. She'd been walking for what seemed like hours, trudging through every aisle multiple times as her sisters searched for items.

"Do you think it's enough sugar?" Yasmin asked, balancing a jumbo bag on her hip.

"Two bags are enough," Parisa said as she eyed the bag. "Unless you want to focus on selling sweets."

"Not just sweets," Yasmin said as she dropped the bag into her shopping cart. "But you can never have enough sugar or flour."

"That's true," Parisa agreed.

Ahead of them, Soraya leaned over her cart to rearrange the contents to make room for a crate of canned olives.

"Apparently, one can never have enough olives either," Fenella whispered in Kyra's ear.

Kyra chuckled. "They are like kids in a candy store. Not that I know what kids in a candy store look like, but I imagine this is it."

Fenella shrugged. "You and me both, sister. I don't think I've ever been to a candy store."

The carts creaked as they kept going, forming a mini caravan as they finally headed toward the checkout lanes.

"Thank God," Fenella murmured. "Or the merciful Fates. I thought they would never be done."

"Isn't there anything you want to get?" Max asked from behind her. "Some Persian sweets, perhaps?" He dangled a box of candied fruit in front of her.

"You remembered." She snatched the box from his hands. "I love these."

Max looked smug, and Kyra felt a pang of jealousy over the history those two shared. She'd thought she was over that, and mostly, she was, but here and there the reminders irked. Did Max even know what her favorite sweets were?

"I got one for you as well." He produced another box from behind his back. "I know that you don't like things that are too sweet, but I thought you should try these. They are sweet and tangy at the same time."

Warmth spread through Kyra at his words, and she took the box from his hands. "Thank you. I would love to try them."

Soraya looked over her shoulder at the boxes of sweets with a disapproving expression on her face. "Those will rot your teeth, but since you don't need to worry about that, enjoy."

"Thank you," Kyra said with a smile. "I intend to."

She had no memories of their childhood together, and sometimes the weight of the years lost with her sisters felt as heavy as the years lost with her daughter.

However, in the short time since they'd been reunited, she'd seen flashes of what might have been.

Soraya's competence, Yasmin's empathy, and Parisa's attention to detail.

And Rana's sarcasm. She wondered which traits they had inherited from their mother, and which from their father.

She didn't remember either, but her father had been the one who enabled all her suffering, so she hoped that she and her sisters were more like their mother than him.

They were stubborn and fierce, and watching them pile groceries onto the conveyor belt, Kyra realized that bonds of blood ran too deep to be erased.

As they reached the cashier, Jackson stepped forward, his wallet already in hand. "I'll cover it."

Soraya's head snapped up. "Absolutely not."

Jackson gave a half-smile, tilting his head. "You can pay me back once your store turns a profit."

Soraya's expression softened. "I appreciate the offer, Jackson. But we have credit cards that Kian gave us. We can pay for the groceries, and once we turn a profit, we will pay him back for this and everything else we've bought since he has given us refuge."

"What's the difference?" Jackson tried to argue.

Kyra put a hand on his arm. "My sisters are stubborn, and they don't back down. It's futile to try to negotiate with them."

Sighing, Jackson stepped back and slipped his wallet into his pocket. "It's a shame, really. I get points for buying stuff, and I use that for travel."

Kyra had a feeling that he was just saying it to give Soraya an incentive to let him pay, but her sister just nodded and smiled, not taking the bait.

Suddenly, her sister's smile wilted, replaced by a panicked expression, and then she ducked her head, signaling to her sisters to do the same.

"What's wrong?" Kyra's hand landed on the pendant again, and this time it definitely felt warmer than what it could've absorbed from her body.

"A Revolutionary Guard." Soraya's voice was barely audible. "Over by the other cashier. He knows me, and he knows Rana. If he sees us, he'll tell Fareed, or worse, send the Doomers after us."

The words sliced through the air like a blade. Kyra scanned the closest checkout lane, trying to spot the threat. Her sisters were keeping their heads down and looking even more conspicuous as they attempted to make themselves invisible.

Without their headscarves and dressed in Western clothes, they should be harder to recognize, but if the guy was someone who had been a guest at Soraya's house, he might see past the superficial changes.

Sensing that something was afoot, Max and Theo got closer.

"What's going on?" Max whispered in her ear.

"Soraya and Rana need to leave. You and Theo pretend to be their husbands and walk them out of here."

Max gave her a curt nod and stepped to Soraya's side, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "Come on, love. Let's go get the car. Jackson can take care of the rest."

Theo offered Rana his arm with a murmured, "Shall we?"

Only Yasmin and Parisa remained, their wide eyes fixed on Kyra as they tried to stay shielded behind Jackson's tall frame.

She saw him then, a stocky man at the other line with bushy eyebrows who was looking their way, passing over Yasmin and Parisa and landing on Soraya.

His eyes widened, recognition flashing like a spark. "Soraya!" he called out.

Kyra felt her stomach drop. "Max, get him!" she hissed.

Max didn't hesitate, but he misunderstood, and instead of reaching into the guy's head and thralling him to forget what he had seen, he lunged across the other conveyor belt and seized the man by the collar, dragging him bodily to the floor.

A loud crash echoed through the market as the man's grocery basket clattered over, scattering cans and packages.

People gasped. One woman screamed in alarm. Others backed away.

Theo pulled a thin wallet from his back pocket and flashed a card with a flick of his wrist. "ICE," he said in a calm, authoritative tone. "Federal agents. Everyone, step back."

The whispered panic surged into a full retreat. Customers scurried away, abandoning their carts as they fled for the exits. Even the cashier froze, her mouth working soundlessly.

Kyra's brow furrowed. "What's ICE?"

"I'll explain later," Theo muttered.

Max hauled the dazed man to his feet and delivered a swift, economical punch to render him limp. "We're leaving. Now."

They abandoned the groceries, pushing the carts aside as they hustled toward the exit.

Soraya clutched Kyra's arm, her voice thin and shaking. "If there's one of them, there'll be more. They'll come for us."

"Calm down," Max said. "We'll question this guy and find out if there are others. Jackson—get us out of here."

They burst out into the parking lot, reaching the van in seconds. Jackson had the doors open with a remote, and they piled in, Max still holding the unconscious man as if he weighed nothing.

Kyra slid into a seat next to her sisters, and Max commandeered the back with the unconscious Revolutionary Guard. As the engine roared to life and they peeled out of the lot, Jackson grumbled under his breath, "I'll have to swap the plates on the van."

"We'll worry about it later," Max said. "Take us to the warehouse. We need to check this guy for trackers before we bring him to the dungeon."

Jackson looked at him through the rearview mirror. "I don't know where this warehouse is."

Theo pulled out his phone. "I'm sending you a pin."

Kyra took Soraya's trembling hand. "Don't worry. The Guardians are going to sort it out. You are safe."

Soraya nodded, but she was still breathing shallowly, fighting panic.

As the van sped toward the warehouse, Kyra had a feeling that their world had just shifted once again.