LOGIN[Killian]One year later.I woke up to a foot in my ribs.Not an attack. Lulu. She'd mastered the art of climbing out of her toddler bed, navigating the hallway, opening our bedroom door, and inserting herself between two sleeping adults with the surgical precision of a field operative. She was on her back, perpendicular to both of us, one foot on my ribcage and one hand in Sera's hair, snoring with the aggressive sincerity of someone who takes sleep as seriously as she takes everything else.
[Sera]Spring arrived in Seattle the way it always does. Reluctantly, and then all at once.Three months after the hospital. The cherry blossoms on our block opened on a Tuesday, and by Wednesday the sidewalk between Vance's and Voss & Grain was carpeted in pink petals that stuck to everyone's shoes. Lulu collected them in fistfuls and deposited them in Killian's shop, which he pretended to mind and didn't.The Americano had become a ritual. Every morning. No charge. Killian would come in at 7:15, before the shop opened, and lean on th
[Killian]The courtroom smelled like old wood polish and recycled air. I sat in the third row of the gallery, behind Liam and Helen Park, and watched my grandfather enter through a side door in a navy suit with his hands cuffed in front of him.He'd lost weight. The suit, which had been tailored, hung wrong at the shoulders. His hair was thinner than I remembered, or maybe I was only now seeing it without the frame of a boardroom or a dinner table or any of the settings where Conrad had always been lit correctly. Under courthouse fluorescents, he looked his age.
[Sera]Two weeks later, I brought tea to the wrong shop.Not wrong. Different. I'd been making two cups every evening since Killian came home from the hospital: one for me, one for him. The first night I carried them across the sidewalk, he'd looked at the cup like I'd handed him a contract he didn't know how to read. By the fourth night it was just routine. Close Vance's. Boil water. Walk twelve feet. Sit.He was at the workbench. Left arm still in a sling, though Nakamura said he could take it off next week. He was sanding something with
[Sera]The nurses arrived in thirty seconds. Two of them, then a third, then Nakamura, who must have been somewhere close because she was in the room before the third nurse finished checking his vitals.Killian's eyes tracked everything. The ceiling, the monitors, the IV lines in his arms, the nurses moving around him with the efficient choreography of people who do this every day. His gaze landed on Lulu last. She was still asleep on my lap, undisturbed by the commotion, her fist still clenched around Mia's jacket collar.He stared at her
[Killian]I was in a room with no walls.Not darkness. Darkness has edges, corners, the suggestion of something beyond it. This was gray. A flat, featureless gray that extended in every direction without variation or end. Like standing inside a piece of paper that someone forgot to write on.I couldn't feel my body. Not numbness. Absence. The place where my hands should be was just more gray, and when I tried to move there was no feedback, no muscle or bone or resistance to push against. Just intention with nothing to act on.
[Sera]The words hang in the air between us like a grenade with the pin already pulled.Killian doesn't move. Doesn't breathe. His hand is still on my wrist, but the grip has gone slack, dead weight now.Moonlight cuts across his face, and for one wild, stupid heartbeat, I search for something. Any
[Sera]The ballroom hangs in
[Sera]"What are you hiding?"Killian's voice slices through the heavy silence, low and probing, like he's already peeling back my layers.My lips part, but nothing comes out. Panic claws up my throat.The door swings open behind us, saving me from the tense situation.A woman steps through, mid-th
[Sera]"Are you okay?" Ryan'







