Hidden Flame

CHAPTER TWO

"Mhm." I let out an exaggerated hum of appreciation, savoring the way the chocolate lingered.

He shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. Just like your mother, I knew he was thinking. She had been the same way—sneaking me sweets when I was little, despite my father's firm stance on "too much sugar." At least that was something I could still remember about her. The way she would smile mischievously, pressing a piece of chocolate into my palm like it was our little secret.

The memory was bittersweet, but before I could dwell on it, another thought crept in—one that tightened around my lungs, hold my breath hostage.

I looked up at my father, wanting to see if he was enjoying the cake as much as I was, but instead, my stomach twisted.

I saw the exhaustion.

The deep-set lines carved into his face. The weight pressing down on his shoulders, aging him faster than time itself. The burden of leadership, the sleepless nights, the endless battles fought behind closed doors.

And the conversation I had overheard came rushing back in a wave of unease.

Nelson was right.

My father was tired.

He couldn't keep up this pace forever, couldn't keep fighting a war with no end in sight, throwing himself against an unyielding wall and expecting a different result.

I couldn't let this continue.

A quiet determination unfurled in my chest, a fire I had been trying to suppress for far too long. I wasn't content to sit on the sidelines anymore, waiting, watching, being protected while everyone else carried the weight of our world. I was ready to step up, to shoulder the burdens that had been passed down for too many years.

My plan was going into action.

Today.

My father pushed his chair back, breaking me from my thoughts. "Well, I better get going myself."

I swallowed hard, steadying my expression.

He walked over, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "Any plans for today?"

"Just going to see Sasha." I shrugged.

It was an easy answer. Sasha was my best friend, had been since we were little. Our fathers worked closely together, and my dad trusted hers. That trust extended to Sasha, though she had always been granted a level of freedom I had never known.

She had moved into her own apartment in the Capital Center, attending university, living a normal life—something I had never been allowed. I had always been homeschooled. While some people in Cadence knew I existed, my father ensured I remained as hidden as possible. He trusted the people here, but if word traveled too far, if my existence reached the wrong ears... Vorrath would find out.

And that was a risk he would never take.

"Fine," he agreed, though I knew he didn't want to. He was only conceding because it was my birthday, and he didn't want me to spend it alone. If it were up to him, I would never leave the house. But he had to give a little—to let me feel like I wasn't completely trapped.

Even though I was.

"But go there and come right back," he warned. "Be home before dark, okay?"

I swallowed hard.

I wouldn't be coming back at all.

"Before dark?" I groaned, playing my part. "You do realize it gets dark at, like, eight? Most kids my age can stay out until midnight. Or, better yet, they live on their own. Like Sasha."

His sigh was heavy, expectant. "You're not most kids. You're my daughter."

There it was. The same argument. The same exhausting fight we had been having for years.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not a little kid anymore. I can protect myself."

"Olivia." His tone shifted—stern, final. The discussion was over before it had even begun. "Please. Do as I ask."

I clenched my jaw. "Yes, sir. General, sir," I muttered, snapping a mock salute.

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. He didn't like when I made light of the military's customs, but today, he let it go.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, pressing another kiss to my head before grabbing his briefcase.

As he reached the door, he paused, looking back at me longer than usual. There was something in his eyes—something sad—and it took everything in me to keep my face blank.

He doesn't know.

He can't know.

"Again... Happy Birthday, Liv."

Guilt coiled in my stomach, twisting like a knife.

I was going to wreck him when he came home and found me gone. But I had no choice.

"I love you, Dad." The words carried the weight of a promise I wasn't sure I could keep.

His expression softened. "Love you most."

And then, he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the moment it did, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

I committed everything to memory. His voice. His face. The way he looked at me, like I was the most precious thing in the world.

Something to hold on to.

Something to fight for.