LOGINZack’s POV
The fire was already everywhere. Heat pressed against my face as smoke swallowed the room, thick and suffocating, turning every breath into a struggle. I couldn't see the walls anymore, couldn't tell where the doorway was, and every attempt to move only seemed to take me deeper into the smoke. Somewhere nearby, a child was crying. “Help!” I turned toward the voice, coughing as I tried to see through the flames. “Where are you?” A small figure emerged from the haze, barely more than a shadow against the fire. She was coughing too, but she kept moving toward me. “Come with me!” Before I could ask who she was, her tiny hand closed around mine. I stumbled after her, too terrified to think about anything except getting out. The flames were closing in around us, crackling overhead and crawling across the walls. I could hear something collapsing somewhere behind us. “Don't let go!” “I won't!” Her fingers tightened around mine, small and trembling. Then something crashed between us. Her hand slipped from mine. “No!” I reached for her blindly, but smoke filled my lungs as flames erupted between us. “Wait!” I lunged toward her— I woke with a violent gasp. For several seconds, I couldn't tell where I was. My chest heaved as I sat upright, sweat running down my temples and soaking the back of my shirt. My heart pounded so hard it hurt, and I gripped the sheets beneath me while I forced myself to breathe. Bedroom. Bed. Night. I was home. My eyes moved to the clock. 3:38 a.m. I shut my eyes and dragged a trembling hand over my face. The nightmare had returned. It always did. Sometimes it stayed away for weeks. Sometimes it came back after only a few nights, but it always found me eventually, dragging me into that burning room and leaving me with the same helplessness I had carried since I was a child. I could never remember her face. Only her hand. Those small fingers wrapped tightly around mine. The sound of her frightened voice telling me to follow her. The desperate certainty in the way she pulled me toward safety. And then the moment I lost her. My jaw tightened as I pushed the memory away. There was no point lying there pretending I could sleep again. Not tonight. Not after Cameron had come home. I got out of bed, pulled on a shirt, and headed downstairs. The house was quiet when I reached the living room, but a low conversation caught my attention. Cameron was sitting near the window in her wheelchair, with her caregiver standing beside her. He had a small bag open and appeared to be checking its contents while speaking to her in a calm, ordinary voice. I didn't think much of it. She had been through a long journey. Maybe she needed something. Cameron noticed me first. The moment her eyes met mine, her hand rose to her temple, and her expression tightened. “Zack…” I crossed the room immediately. “What happened?” “My head is hurting again.” The concern that had already been sitting heavily in my chest sharpened. I crouched in front of her, studying her face. “How bad is it?” She tried to wave it off, but the faint wince that crossed her features gave her away. “It's just a headache. I'll be fine.” “You don't look fine.” “I promise, it's nothing.” “Cameron, you're shaking.” She glanced down at her hands as though she hadn't noticed until I pointed it out. A tired smile touched her lips. “I'm exhausted, Zack. That's all.” “Did you take your medication?” “Not yet.” Her caregiver immediately handed me the medication and a glass of water. I helped Cameron take it, then remained beside her, watching until she settled back against the chair. “You should have told me the moment you felt sick.” She gave me a faint, almost apologetic smile. “I didn't want to wake anyone.” “You could wake the entire house if you needed to.” That earned a soft laugh from her, though she still looked pale. “You don't have to look so worried,” she murmured. I exhaled, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. “I've spent years wondering if I'd ever see you again. Forgive me if I'm having a little trouble acting normal now that you're finally sitting in front of me.” Her smile faded, replaced by something softer. “I didn't mean to make you worry.” “You disappeared.” The words came out sharper than I intended. Cameron's eyes dropped. I immediately regretted the harshness in my voice, but the hurt behind it had been waiting too long. “You disappeared for years, Cameron.” I leaned back slightly, struggling to keep my voice steady. “Do you have any idea how many times I wondered where you were? How many times I thought someone was going to call and tell me something had happened to you?” Her eyes glistened. “I know.” “No.” I shook my head, my throat tightening. “I don't think you do. I kept hoping I'd open the door one day and find you standing there. I kept thinking maybe you'd walk back into our lives as if all those years had never happened.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “And now you are,” I whispered. She wiped it away quickly, but her fingers were trembling. “I'm sorry.” “Don't apologize tonight.” My voice softened. “Just... don't.” She looked at me helplessly. “Then what do you want me to do?” “Stay.” The word left me before I could stop it. Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment neither of us spoke. Then she nodded. “I plan to.” Something inside my chest loosened. I reached for her hand, closing my fingers around hers. “I missed you.” She squeezed my hand gently. “I missed you too.” I looked at her, unable to hide the emotion that rose in my chest. “No, Cameron. I need you to understand something.” My thumb moved absently across her knuckles. “I never stopped missing you. Not once.” Her eyes filled again. “I thought you would eventually.” “How could I?” “Life moves on.” “Not everything does.” She looked back at me, and whatever she saw in my face made her lower her gaze. “You were my family before everything happened,” I continued quietly. “You still are.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I was scared to come back.” “Of me?” She shook her head. “Of everything.” I wanted to ask what she meant. There were years between us that I couldn't account for, questions I had carried for too long, but she looked exhausted enough already. So I swallowed them. “You don't have to tell me tonight,” I said. “But someday, you're going to tell me where you've been.” She hesitated before nodding. “I will.” “And why you stayed away.” Her fingers tightened around mine.. “I'll tell you.” “Promise?” She lifted her eyes to mine. “I promise.” I held her gaze for another second before finally nodding. “That’s enough for tonight.” I rose and glanced toward the caregiver. “She needs to rest.” “I'll take her upstairs,” he said. I stepped aside as he moved behind the wheelchair. Cameron looked up at me. “Goodnight, Zack.” “Goodnight, Cam.” I bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes closed. For one brief moment, I was a boy again, sitting beside the girl who had always been there for me, before everything changed. Then the moment passed. The caregiver wheeled her toward the hallway, and I watched until they disappeared from sight. I remained in the living room long after they were gone. My mind drifted back to the nightmare. The hand. That tiny voice. The flames. I had spent years trying to bury that night, but some memories didn't stay buried. They waited quietly until something stirred them awake. Tonight, it had been Cameron. Maybe seeing her again had dragged something old back to the surface. I rubbed my eyes and finally turned toward the stairs. Then I heard the soft roll of wheels behind me. I turned. Cameron had stopped near the entrance to the hallway, her caregiver beside her. My brows drew together. “Did you forget something?” She looked at me for a moment before shaking her head. “No.” “Then what is it?” Her expression changed. The faint smile disappeared, leaving something almost vulnerable behind. “Can I ask you something?” I nodded slowly. “Of course.” She hesitated, her fingers curling around the armrest. “It's just…” Her voice faltered, and she looked away before forcing herself to meet my eyes again. I waited. She drew in a slow breath. “Zack…” Something about the way she said my name made me straighten. “What?” Her eyes held mine. “Are you happy with her?”Quiana’s POVThe words stayed between us.*I never stopped blaming you for what happened to her.*They didn't sound like an accusation anymore. They sounded like a sentence.I stood there, staring at Zack, waiting for something in his face to soften. Anything. A flicker of doubt. A trace of regret. Some indication that the man standing in front of me remembered that I was more than the person he had held responsible for everything that had gone wrong.Nothing came.His expression remained hard, his jaw tense, his eyes unreadable, and somehow that hurt more than the words themselves.I drew in a slow breath, but it caught halfway down my throat. “So that's it?”Zack didn't answer immediately. His gaze shifted toward the window, his shoulders rigid beneath his shirt. “I think we've reached the point where pretending this marriage can work is pointless.”A strange laugh escaped me. It wasn't funny. It was simply the sound my body made when my heart didn't know what else to do.“Pretendin
Quiana’s POVThe next morning, I walked into the dining room and immediately wished I hadn't.Cameron was already there, seated at the table with her wheelchair beside her and a cup of tea between her hands. Andrew stood nearby, speaking quietly with one of the house staff, while Zack sat beside Cameron, his attention entirely on her.“Did you sleep well?” he asked.Cameron smiled faintly. “Better than yesterday.”“And your head?”“A little sore.”His expression tightened. “You should have told me.”“It wasn't bad.”“You don't get to decide that on your own.”She reached across and touched his wrist. “I'm fine, Zack.”His features softened immediately. “Are you sure?”She nodded.I stood at the doorway for a moment, watching them. I'd seen Zack care about Cameron before. Even when she was gone, some part of him had remained attached to the memories he carried of her. But seeing them together now was different.She was here.He no longer had to live on memories.I pulled out a chair op
Zack’s POV“Are you happy with her?”I stared at Cameron. For a few seconds, I didn't know what to say. Her question had caught me off guard, not because I had never asked myself the same thing, but because hearing it from her made something uncomfortable shift inside me.Cameron waited, her eyes fixed on mine.I glanced toward the hallway before looking back at her. “It's late.”Her brows pulled together slightly. “Zack—”“You're exhausted.” I kept my voice calm, but there was a firmness in it that told her I wasn't going to have this conversation tonight. “You've been travelling, you're in pain, and you need to rest. Whatever you're trying to ask me can wait until tomorrow.”She studied me for another moment before lowering her gaze. “I only wanted to know.”“And you'll know when I'm ready to talk about it.”There was no anger in my voice, but I left no room for an argument.“Okay.”The quiet acceptance softened something in me. I stepped closer to her wheelchair. “Come on. You need
Zack’s POV The fire was already everywhere. Heat pressed against my face as smoke swallowed the room, thick and suffocating, turning every breath into a struggle. I couldn't see the walls anymore, couldn't tell where the doorway was, and every attempt to move only seemed to take me deeper into the smoke. Somewhere nearby, a child was crying. “Help!” I turned toward the voice, coughing as I tried to see through the flames. “Where are you?” A small figure emerged from the haze, barely more than a shadow against the fire. She was coughing too, but she kept moving toward me. “Come with me!” Before I could ask who she was, her tiny hand closed around mine. I stumbled after her, too terrified to think about anything except getting out. The flames were closing in around us, crackling overhead and crawling across the walls. I could hear something collapsing somewhere behind us. “Don't let go!” “I won't!” Her fingers tightened around mine, small and trembling. Then something cras
Quiana I stopped halfway down the staircase. For one suspended second, my mind refused to understand what my eyes were seeing. Cameron was sitting in our living room. Alive and home. After all these years. My fingers tightened around the banister until my knuckles hurt. I couldn't breathe properly. I couldn't even move. The woman sitting across from Zack looked older than the sister I remembered, her once-bright face thinner now, her dark hair falling loosely around her shoulders, but there were some things time couldn't erase. Those eyes, that smile and that face I had spent years trying not to remember too clearly. It was Cameron. My sister. A man stood behind her wheelchair, one hand resting on the handle while the other held a small bag. He looked like a caregiver, perhaps someone who had been helping her throughout the journey. He didn't say anything. He simply remained beside her, giving her the attention of someone accustomed to caring for her. But I barely noticed h
Quiana The first thing I felt was the cold. It crept across my shoulder, raising goosebumps along my skin before I instinctively pulled the duvet higher. My eyes fluttered open, and for several seconds, I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, my mind sluggish and heavy with sleep. Then I moved…and froze. The duvet slipped slightly from my chest. I was naked. A sharp breath caught in my throat, and I sat up so quickly that the room spun around me. My gaze flew across the bed. Zack. He was lying beside me with his back turned, one arm thrown carelessly above his head. His breathing was deep and steady, his disheveled appearance a reminder of how drunk he'd been when he came home. My pulse quickened as the memories returned in scattered pieces. The foyer. His drunken eyes. His voice. Cameron. The fall. His hands around my waist. His lips against mine. I gripped the duvet tighter. I had told myself to stop. I knew he wasn't seeing me, yet I hadn't pushed him away. Instead, I'd







