The car moved smoothly past the checkpoint, and the Wasteland was officially behind us.

But my chest was tight. I still felt the cold touch of the pistol against my head. 

Everything changed the second we crossed. The Golden Land was too clean. Too big. Too bright. Trees everywhere. Real ones. Gardens full of flowers. Buildings that looked unreal and windows that sparkled. No dust. No cracks. No noise. Not like home.

Even the air smelled different—cleaner, colder, like it didn’t belong in lungs like mine.

I sat stiff, eyes fixed outside. Buildings rose in the distance. It felt really wrong to be here. 

I didn’t realize how hard I was gripping the edge of the seat until Lilith’s hand slid over mine.

I flinched, just slightly, but didn’t pull back. Her fingers were warm.

I looked down at them. Then up at her.

She didn’t say anything. Just held my hand, like it was nothing.

I didn’t say anything either.

The car rolled past rows of things I’ve never seen: automated vendors, street lights that blinked on even though it was still day, guards that nodded at the vehicle as we passed. There were barely any people walking. And those who did looked… unreal. Clean shoes. Tidy clothes. Hair that didn’t look like it had ever seen wind or dirt.

Lilith kept holding my hand.

The car slowed again, turning down to a place that had a bunch of trees, green and full. Gorgeous flowers I’ve never seen in my entire life. We passed a golden gate—and then, there it was.

Her house.

No. Not a house.

It was more like a palace.

I didn’t have words for it. It was taller than I thought homes could be. The front had pillars. Dozens of windows. A fountain I could never imagine wasting water on. And it was all one family’s.

I’d thought I was ready for it. I wasn’t.

The car came to a stop in the round driveway. A servant opened the door without a word. Lilith stepped out first, then turned to me and offered her hand again.

I took it.

My boots hit stone that looked like it had never seen a crack. My heart thudded loud in my chest. And just as we stepped toward the entrance—

The doors burst open.

A man and woman stood there, dressed sharp enough to cut with their glares alone. Her parents.

“Lilith,” her mother snapped. “Three days. Three. No notice. No communication. And now you return dragging in filth from the Wasteland? Have you lost your mind!”

I stopped cold.

Lilith didn’t let go of my hand.

“She’s my guest,” she said, calm, but firm. “You’ll treat her as such.”

Her father laughed, but it was a mean sound. “You’ve embarrassed us enough already. What were you thinking, bringing that into our home?”

My jaw clenched.

“You think this is acceptable? Bringing… that… here?” 

I didn’t flinch.

But my fingers curled tighter into Lilith’s without meaning to. I didn’t look at them. I just stared at the perfect floor, polished, not a speck out of place. Like it could spit me out if it wanted.

Lilith stepped slightly in front of me. “I wasn’t asking permission.”

The silence was heavy.

Then, without waiting for a reply, she pulled me gently by the hand and led me inside. I couldn’t stop staring. Every tile on the floor looked carved. Every wall gleamed. Heavy mirrors. Chandeliers dripping crystal. Portraits in gilded frames. I’d never seen so much luxury packed into a space without a single crack or hole.

I caught my reflection in one of the mirrors. Dirty boots. Worn clothes. Badge shining like a curse around my neck.

I didn’t belong here. Not for a second.

But Lilith’s hand stayed in mine.

And somehow, that helped me breathe.

We reached the end of a long hallway, and she opened two large double doors.

Her room.

It was bigger than my entire hideout. Windows wide open. A bed with silk sheets. A bookshelf that touched the ceiling. A mirror taller than both of us. More pillows than one person could ever need.

I stood there, speechless.

Lilith leaned on the doorway, watching me.

“You can shower, or sleep, or eat—whatever you want. You’re safe here.”

I turned toward her, slow.

“You didn’t have to fight for me, you know.”

“I did,” she said. “Because I wanted to.”

I swallowed.

The badge around my neck still felt like a mark. But her eyes didn’t look at me like I was less. They never had.

For the first time since we crossed the gate, I let myself breathe.

Maybe just a little.