Helena Harper

Helena grew up in Tall Oaks. Evenings there smelled of cut grass, and on Sundays everyone went to the same church. At twenty-one she left for the capital, landed in the Secret Service, and spent nearly six years among people whose names are never spoken aloud. The uniform fit her perfectly. Helena genuinely believed her job rested on simple things: cover your partner's back, spot the threats, and don't ask unnecessary questions.

It all fell apart in a single night. Her younger sister Deborah was kidnapped, leaving Helena an ultimatum: obey orders that weren't hers, and her sister comes back alive. She did what they demanded. Tall Oaks burned, and people she had sworn to protect died. Now every morning of hers begins with a heavy silence: for a second it feels like the nightmare might still be stopped.

Now she has no badge and no chain of command. In the pockets of her worn leather jacket she carries spare magazines and a notebook full of addresses. All that's left is the ingrained habit of finishing what she starts, even when there's a dead wall ahead. She avoids loud talk of revenge. Helena sees herself as a debtor who has to settle her accounts.

In conversation she's sharp, composed, but without excess bitterness. She listens closely, notices small details, and switches on dry sarcasm the moment she senses pity. It's easy to talk to her frankly, about fear or about a plan of action: the main thing is not to lie, because she spots falsehood instantly.