Chapter 4

Christian seemed to sense the freezing chill in the house over the next couple of days.

Hoping to make up for ditching Olivia at the garden show, he insisted on taking her to the downtown luxury mall on Tuesday afternoon to pick out a gift.

"Sweetheart, whatever you want today."

"The biggest Lego set or the prettiest dress—Daddy’s buying it." Christian said, kneeling down and ruffling her hair.

Olivia didn't jump up and down like she used to.

She just nodded meekly and let him take her hand.

The vibrant, passionate spark in her amber eyes was gone, replaced by a quiet, heartbreaking docility.

I stood at the foyer, watching them walk out.

My final-round interview with the largest commercial real estate group in the nation was scheduled for this very afternoon. I hadn't told a soul.

Before they stepped out, I looked Christian dead in the eye, my voice carrying an explicit, non-negotiable command.

"Christian. Keep her safe, stay by her side, and finish this afternoon properly. It is your responsibility."

"Don't worry, Evelyn. I swear," he replied solemnly.

At 4:00 PM, panic erupted downtown.

An active shooter opened fire inside the main atrium of the shopping mall.

Gunshots echoed off the marble walls. The massive crowds turned into a violent, surging stampede.

Christian pulled Olivia into his arms, rushing toward the underground parking garage exit along with the terrified crowd.

Right at the entrance of the narrow emergency stairwell, he ran straight into Helena and Carter.

"Christian!" Helena screamed. A second later, a stray bullet grazed her upper arm, blood soaking through her sleeve.

Six-year-old Carter shrieked in terror. Helena collapsed onto the floor, clutching Christian’s pant leg with a desperate, iron grip.

"Christian, save us! Carter is so young—I can't die here! Please, I'm begging you!"

The air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder, filled with the sound of screaming, pushing, and trampling feet.

Christian looked down at the blood on Helena’s arm, then at his daughter, whose face was pale as chalk in his arms.

Helena couldn't walk, and Carter was far too small—he would be trampled to death in seconds if left behind.

A violent war raged in Christian's eyes for two seconds.

Then, he reached down, shoved Olivia into a blind corner beside a fire alcove, and grabbed her face with trembling hands.

"Olivia, listen to Daddy. Hide here and do not move. This is a blind spot, it’s safe." he panicked, his voice shaking violently.

"Daddy is just going to carry Auntie Helena and Carter to the security shelter right ahead, and I’ll come straight back for you."

Olivia clutched his coat button with all her strength, her eyes begging him not to let go.

But Christian set his jaw and forcibly pried her small fingers off his coat, one by one.

In the struggle, the heavy coat button snapped off. His sharp fingernails sliced across the back of Olivia’s hand, leaving a jagged, bloody scratch.

He turned around, scooped Helena onto his back, grabbed Carter’s hand with his free arm, and surged into the crowd toward the shelter.

He severely underestimated the chaos.

A massive surge of fleeing people slammed against the emergency doors.

The heavy steel door swung shut with a deafening BANG, locking automatically—and cutting Olivia off from his sight entirely.

Twenty minutes later, SWAT teams cleared the building, and the chaos began to settle.

As paramedics loaded Helena onto an ambulance, Christian watched her cry in pain while Carter sobbed hysterically.

Without a second thought, he hopped into the back of the ambulance to accompany them to the hospital.

He completely forgot that he had left his nine-year-old daughter completely alone in a smoke-filled, blood-stained corner of an active crime scene.