Silver laid Dahlia gently across her bed, smoothing the blanket over her with hands that hadn't shaken like this in decades, and pressed his lips briefly to her forehead before straightening.
"I'll be right back," he told her, though she gave no sign of hearing him. "Don't go anywhere."
The joke landed hollow even to his own ears. He pulled the door shut behind him anyway, some old instinct insisting on the small courtesy of privacy even now, even with the house in ruins around them, and made his way back down the hallway toward the study.
The gun cabinet was exactly where he'd left it, mercifully untouched, and Silver keyed the combination with fingers that had gone steady again, the earlier tremor burned off by purpose. He pulled a pistol free, checked the magazine out of habit rather than doubt, and tucked a second into his waistband before closing the cabinet again.
