Falter in pain.

Cyrus POV.

I sat on the edge of the cot, staring at the dust motes dancing in the shaft of light, feeling as though the world was moving on without me—without us. My children were missing, and I was no closer to finding them than I had been yesterday. The ache in my chest had only deepened overnight, settling into a bone-deep weariness that I couldn’t shake.

I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to clear the fog from my mind, but it was no use. The exhaustion was relentless, pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t lift. I knew I needed to pull myself together, to keep searching, but the thought of stepping out into the daylight, of facing the world without them, felt like more than I could bear.

But I had no choice. My children were out there somewhere—frightened, alone, and in danger—and every second I wasted was another second they were lost. I had to keep going. I had to find them.

I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the stiffness in my limbs, the way my muscles protested every