So We Stay Hidden


 
 
 
 Table of Contents
 Dedication
 Chapter 1
 Chapter 2
 Chapter 3
 Chapter 4
 Chapter 5
 Chapter 6
 Chapter 7
 Chapter 8
 Chapter 9
 Chapter 10
 Chapter 11
 Chapter 12
 Chapter 13
 Chapter 14
 Chapter 15
 Chapter 16
 Chapter 17
 Chapter 18
 Chapter 19
 Chapter 20
 Chapter 21
 Chapter 22
 Chapter 23
 Chapter 24
 Chapter 25
 Chapter 26
 Chapter 27
 Chapter 28
 Chapter 29
 Book Club Questions
 About Author
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 So We Stay Hidden
 Copyright © 2023 Nick Savage. All rights reserved.
 
 
 
 
 
 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc. 
 1497 Main St. Suite 169
 Dunedin, FL 34698
 4horsemenpublications.com
 [email protected]
 Cover by J. Kotick
 Typesetting by Niki Tantillo
 Editor: Blair Parke
 All rights to the work within are reserved to the author and publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 International Copyright Act, without prior written permission except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact either the Publisher or Author to gain permission.
 This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
 Library of Congress Control Number: 2022948769
 Paperback ISBN-13: 978-1-64450-699-8
 Hardcover ISBN-13: 978-1-64450-859-6
 Audiobook ISBN-13: 978-1-64450-701-8
 Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-64450-700-1
 
 
 Dedication
 This is to everyone who believes in something bigger than themselves.
 
 
 
 Chapter 1
 “Celebrate now. It can all be taken away.”
 ~V. Petrovsky~
 An old jazz recording of “Chicago (That Toddlin’ Town)” provides the perfect background music to their early dinner celebration as Ken and Tracy enjoy an appetizer of stuffed mushrooms in an upscale Italian restaurant. 
 The other customers seem equally jubilant this evening, perhaps also celebrating their own accomplishments with each other. Ken and Tracy look around at the tuxedoed staff swimming through the rows of tables and booth-lined walls, delivering food and drinks to happy, hungry people. The popping sound of a server opening a champagne bottle draws the couple’s attention to a family a few tables down. 
 Ken turns back to see his wife breaking apart some bread. Tracy smiles at him, dipping the piece into a dish of olive oil sprinkled with a Parmesan/Romano mixture. 
 “Is this what the future is going to be? Days and evenings like this, all the time?” Tracy asks as she bites down on her oil-soaked bread. 
 Ken smiles back. He knows thoughts like that are naive, but he can’t help but think she could be right. After all, if the prophecy is correct and their child is the one to bring together the Legends and the Normal world, then who would want to imagine it any differently? Ken gives a subtle nod as he thinks about a world without fear, a world where those who have had to hide for so long can feel free to be themselves—a world without prejudice. 
 “We can only hope,” he responds. “Have you given any thought to names?” 
 She sits up a little straighter in her chair. “Yes. I think we need to honor those who passed before us. A way to remember where we come from, how far we’ve come, and where we still have to go. Also, a way to tell Scarlett she is as much our daughter as Connor is our son.” 
 “So, you are thinking what, exactly?” Ken asks. 
 She bobs her head side to side. “I was thinking Hillary for a girl. And if it’s a boy, Jimmy.” 
 Ken stops and holds his wife’s hands. “I think that is a beautiful idea. I love those names. Scarlett will feel especially honored if we name our child after one of her parents.” 
 “She was your sister of sorts, too, Ken,” Tracy reminds him. 
 “Of course, of course.” Ken acknowledges his misplaced wording. “But I think she’ll be very honored is all I’m saying.” 
 “I never understood why it says James on his tombstone. Everyone called him Jimmy,” Tracy ponders aloud. 
 “His mother called him James; it’s what he wanted in his will,” Ken clarifies for his wife, while taking a bite of oil-soaked bread. 
 They look around the restaurant, soaking in each moment they can. From the feel of the slightly rough, overly starched tablecloth that gives this place its signature, polished look to the dark wood bar with writing etched into the glass behind it, everything tonight feels calm for the two of them. They feel a sense of peace knowing that this child Tracy carries is for the betterment of humanity. They see a group of young kids, all dressed in tuxedos and prom dresses, walk through the restaurant guided by the hostess. They find their seats at a table a few yards away from Ken and Tracy. 
 “Do you think the kids will have fun at prom?” Tracy asks. 
 Before Ken has a chance to answer, the waiter brings a large entree of Eggplant Parmesan to the table. A serving spoon is shoved under the food, its handle reflecting the light above them. The server sets it down and places an empty plate in front of each of them. He steps away while another server puts down a side order of potatoes Vesuvio. 
 “Anything else I can get for you right now?” the server’s tone is a little more casual than the atmosphere otherwise alludes. 
 Tracy gently shakes her head at Ken, who looks to the server and says, “Just the check. Everything is perfect. Thank you.” 
 The server nods and encourages them to enjoy their meal before leaving them to eat. 
 “I hope so,” Ken says, returning to Tracy’s yet unanswered question. “They need to have fun. The world