“Stop, Uncle Lukas!” Mere squeals. “The gelato shop is finally open today.” I pull in at the only empty parking spot outside the gelato shop, which has been closed the whole week.

Merida is already out of the passenger seat and scampering toward the glass door when I step out and scan our surroundings. There’s a reason I’m driving her back and forth to school.

Not long ago, there was an attempt to kidnap her, but the kidnappers got Clementine instead. All of us at Kings Security, including Keith, are working day and night to find the man behind that incident.

The hairs at the back of my neck rise when I stride toward Merida. She’s waiting for me with one hand on the golden glass doorknob.

I throw a quick glance over my shoulder as the roar of an approaching motorcycle becomes louder.

Something isn’t right; I can sense it in my bones.

But there’s no time to register Merida’s petrified face or the change in the engine sound as the motorcycle slows down. I don’t even have a chance to take out my gun from its holster.

A decision has to be made in a split second, and my number one priority is to keep Merida safe.

I lunge forward and turn the knob under her hand before pushing her inside the shop and blocking her with my body.

I’m only halfway turned when a gunshot rips through the air. Immense pain shoots through my shoulder, and screams ring out around me, one of them possibly Merida’s. I feel myself losing consciousness, but I manage to speak to the wide-eyed young man behind the counter. “Call 911.”

He’s immobilized, still grasping the wooden counter before him.

“Now,” I shout when a second bullet hits just below the previous one. Fuck, it hurts like a bitch.

Merida peeks at me from where she’s hiding behind the table and whispers, “I did, Uncle Lukas.” Tears run down her cheeks. “They’re gone.”

And that’s the last thing I hear before everything goes black.

4. Autumn

4

AUTUMN

Chiara enters my office holding a tray with two cups of coffee and a plate of sugar cookies. I’m immediately hit by the warm sweet aroma.

“Suzie just prepared a fresh batch.” She places it on my desk.

“Aw, these are so cute.” They’re white cookies shaped like snowflakes, topped with sky-blue icing. “I think we might be the only business who makes winter-themed cookies even after the holiday season.”

Chiara snickers and flops onto the chair opposite me. “You’re right.” After taking a bite, she asks, “So, how was your week? Working alone?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me my mother also gave you an assessment sheet.”