The safehouse was quiet.
Not sterile like Ridgepoint. Not haunted like the apartment they once hid in. Just quiet.
A small cabin nestled in the hills, far from the city's pulse. The kind of place where no one asked questions, and the sky stretched wide enough to breathe again.
Miri sat on the porch, legs tucked beneath them, sketching trees with the same focus they'd once applied to diagrams and wires.
Elena stood inside the doorway, watching with a heart still unsure how to beat in safety.
Liam approached from behind, his arm brushing hers. "You still don't sleep much," he said softly.
"Old habits," she replied.
He didn't push. Just stood with her, the silence between them easy now.
"I think Miri's warming up," he said, nodding toward the porch.
"She asked me if I used to paint," Elena said.
"Did you?"
"A long time ago." She paused. "Before everything was survival."
Liam leaned against the frame beside her. "Maybe now there's time for both."
She turned to look at him.
His face was still lean, eyes still sharp. But he smiled more now. The storm inside him quieter. Not gone—but no longer drowning.
"Elena…" he started, unsure.
She reached out, fingers grazing his. "We're not broken anymore. Just… rebuilding."
He nodded, and that was enough.
Outside, Miri turned and waved.
Elena waved back, something warm unfurling in her chest.
It wasn't a clean ending. There were still questions. Still things to face. But there was life here now.
And for the first time in a long, long time, Elena believed they might actually be free.
Final Scene: Later That Night
The house was still. A fire crackled low in the hearth.
Liam sat at the table, sketching out routes on an old map. Elena walked in, barefoot, wrapped in a soft blanket.
"Planning our next escape?" she teased.
He looked up and smiled. "No. I was thinking… maybe we find a place to stay."
She blinked, surprised. "Stay?"
"Not forever. But long enough." He paused, voice quieter now. "To see what this could be."
Elena walked over, sat beside him, and took the pencil from his hand. She drew a line across the paper—curving, wandering, uncertain.
Then she looked at him. "Let's not plan everything."
He tilted his head. "No?"
She smiled. "Let's just… drive. Follow the quiet. Stop when it feels like home."
Liam reached for her hand. "With you? Always."
They sat in silence again, the map between them, the night around them.
Three names. One road. And everything ahead.