KAEL'S POV
The house stirred with the usual morning chaos. Drawers thudded closed, water gurgled from the bathroom sink, and the soft shuffling of feet echoed through the hallways like whispers of urgency. Sunlight slanted through the windows, casting golden rectangles across the hardwood floor. In the middle of it all, I stood still, gripping a thin piece of paper like it held the world.“Kael, are you ready yet?” Mom’s voice rang out from somewhere down the corridor, sharp with that familiar tension that always accompanied our rushed mornings. It wasn't just a question—it was a warning. We were running behind. Again.I stared down at the crumpled sheet in my hand. Dad’s address was scrawled across the center, the ink slightly smudged at the corners where my fingers had lingered too long. Beneath it, in uneven handwriting, was a list of details Mom had told me to remember—clues that might help me recognize him. She said I’d know. That something inside me
