The Part That Survives

The morning light filtered through the open windows, casting golden streaks across the floor. The scent of saltwater drifted in with the breeze, mixing with the strong aroma of coffee. She hadn’t slept. Not really. The question Elias lit like a match hadn’t gone out: Was she the fire or the fuel? Built for this life—or just built?

The night before had been a calculated escape, a firefight in the shadows, and the lingering tension was thick in the air. Jessica stood at the kitchen counter, one hand wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, the other absentmindedly tracing patterns on the surface of the worn wooden table. Leanna and Olivia moved through the space behind her, voices hushed, their movements efficient. The events of the last 24 hours had shaken them, but there was no time to process it—not yet.

Sam was in the other room, resting. Still breathing. That should have been enough.

“Jess,” Leanna called, her voice cutting through Jessica’s thoughts. “Either grab some intel and get to work, or go get some sleep. Standing there brooding isn’t helping.”

She wanted to snap. But Leanna wasn’t wrong—and that stung more than she wanted to admit.

Jessica exhaled, turning slightly. “I’m not brooding.”

Leanna raised an eyebrow. Olivia, still typing at her laptop, snorted but didn’t look up. Jessica shook her head and sat at the table, pretending to focus on the pile of documents in front of her. But her mind was elsewhere. It had been for a while.

__

That evening, Jessica found herself sitting outside on the small patio with a beer bottle resting loosely in her grip. Sam was beside her, leaning back against his chair, his breathing measured but still pained. The ocean stretched before them, endless and dark, the waves breaking against the shore in a steady rhythm.

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

Then, finally, Jessica broke the silence. “Why do you even bother with me?”

Sam turned his head slightly, studying her. “What kind of question is that?”

“A fair one,” she muttered.

He exhaled, shifting slightly in his seat. “Because you’re worth it. Even if you don’t believe that yet.”

Jessica felt something twist in her chest. She wanted to tell him—tell him what she hadn’t told anyone. That she didn’t know who she was anymore, that every time she looked in the mirror, she saw someone she didn’t recognize. That she was tired of running, of fighting, of pretending she had all the answers.

Instead, she said nothing. She looked out at the horizon and let the moment pass.

Frustrated with herself, Jessica retreated inside, finding Leanna and Olivia still at the table, hunched over Esparza’s decrypted files. Olivia looked up as Jessica entered.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Leanna said without looking up.

Jessica folded her arms. “Didn’t realize you needed me to narrate every thought.”

Olivia shut her laptop and gave Jessica a pointed look. “You’re not the only one bleeding in the dark, Jess. We’ve all been at your side, but sometimes it feels like you forgot we were even here.”

Jessica opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat because Olivia was right. She had been so wrapped up in her own pain, her own identity crisis, that she hadn’t really been present. Not the way she should have been.

“We don’t need you to be perfect,” Leanna added. “We just need you to remember we’re not your shadows, Jess. We’re your team.”

Jessica ran a hand over her face, exhaling. “Yeah. I get it.”

Olivia smirked. “Good. Because we just found something big.”

She turned the screen toward Jessica, revealing a decrypted ledger. Several transactions stood out, all linking to an offshore account in Montevideo, Uruguay.

Jessica frowned. “That’s a long way from Belize.”

“Yeah, well, Vanguard’s money is heading there for a reason,” Olivia said. “And I don’t think it’s just another shell company.”

Jessica felt something shift inside her—not fear, not doubt. Something else. It felt like resolve.

Leanna cracked her knuckles. “So, what’s the play?”

Jessica took a slow breath and leaned forward, feeling—for the first time in a long time—like herself again.

“We find out what Vanguard is doing in Uruguay.” She met Olivia’s gaze. “And then we burn it to the ground.”

—

Later that night, Jessica stood outside once more, the ocean wind cool against her skin. She thought about Sam, about the words she hadn’t said. Maybe she wasn’t ready yet. But she had made a different kind of step tonight—one that mattered.

She turned from the ocean and walked inside—not fixed, not whole, but facing forward. She didn’t know who she’d become on the other side of this. But tonight, the first step was hers.