LOGINAaron’s POVI sat there in the small, sterile room, my hands shaking. My jacket felt too heavy, my chest tight. Across from me, the police officer had a notebook and a pen, flipping through pages like he already knew I was trouble. His eyes were sharp, but he didn’t look angry yet. Just… watchful.“Tell me again,” he said slowly, tapping the pen against his notebook, “you said what happened to Mr. Paul Baxter?”My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard. My voice came out small, weak. “I… I accidentally killed him. He was trying to hurt me. He had information… information I didn’t want anyone to know. I… I struggled. I was just twenty. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know what could happen. I…”My words were shaky, all tumbling out too fast, too messy.The officer leaned back slightly, his face shifting as he tried to keep a neutral expression. He didn’t interrupt yet, but his pen slowed. My hands were folded on the table, trembling. “I went to a new city. After I buried him
EthanConnor walked a step ahead of me, keys jingling at his side like he was trying to announce himself to the entire building.“Welcome to your new life,” he said over his shoulder, pushing through a set of glass doors.I stopped short.The office opened up like a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. High ceilings. Light pouring in from wide windows. Plants--everywhere. Tall ones in ceramic pots near the corners, smaller ones perched on shelves and tables like they belonged there, like they'd always been part of the plan. And air conditioning hummed from above--cool, not aggressive, wrapping around the space, not blasting through.In the middle of the floor, a number of small tables were arranged in a rough circle, all brown wood, surrounded by matching brown chairs. Not stiff, corporate chairs either- these looked like chairs you could sit in for hours without wanting to escape. The place felt… lived in. Intentional.Homey, but powerful.I swallowed.Connor turned to me, o
EthanThe very mention of his name struck me a slap on the face.My body jerked before my mind could react. Quick, instinctual, as if I’d been caught with my hands in the cookie jar even though I hadn’t moved. My heart thumped loudly in my chest. I could have sworn my mom could hear it pounding. For an instant, the world spun. I gasped for breath as if it had been punched in my chest."Ethan," my mom said calmly, steady as always. "Hey. Breathe."Her hands were already on my shoulders, grounding me. Firm, with a gentle touch. She squeezed once, twice, her thumbs deliciously digging into muscle as if she were planting me in the bed, in the moment.“It’s okay,” she said. “Everything’s fineBut it wasn't,nothing was okay.My mind was racing ahead of myself, spinning out in streaks ahead of the pace I could control.Aaron was here.In Texas.In this house.How?Why?What could he possibly wantThe questions piled on top of each other until they blurred, until they were only a murmur, o
Sandra's POVI closed the door quietly behind me, the sound echoing more than I wanted it to, like it might betray me. Like someone might know that just then, I was standing outside, right in front of a boy who was burdened with the entire world on his back.I continued to move inside the house, making an effort to relax my shoulders, to smile instead of frown. “Hey,” I said, shrugging, letting them see I could smile, I could“He must’ve missed his bus stop!” I shouted out into the hallway, pitching my voice lightly as I began to move towards the kitchen. “Three streets over. These delivery guys never read the addresses right!”I released a laugh, a small one, and wiped my slick palms on my jeans, hoping my husband wouldn’t take a close look at me. That he wouldn’t see how much my palms were shaking.“That happens,” he said distractedly from the living room, thank goodness. “Did he take the package back?”“Yes,” I said hastily. “All sorted.”I didn’t wait for further questions. I tu
Aaron’s POVThe soles of my feet felt like they were filled with wet cement as I entered the short path that led from my house to Ethan’s. It was just short. It had never been far. Every step was a punishment that I had caused upon myself. I paused at the foot of the porch, transfixed in front of the door that seemed like it was close to bursting.My hand trembled in mid-air.Knock. Don’t knockLeave. Stay.Memories swirled in my head. Ethan smiling on this very porch. Connor leaning on the railing with his beer. Sandra calling us in with dinner. It all seemed to belong to another world, another lifetime, another me.I swallowed hard and knocked.Once.Two.My heart pounded so hard in my chest that I could have vomited.Different thoughts filled my head like how the wrong person could open that door and everything could go horribly wrong. And as for Connor. He could break more than my nose and ribs this time. And if it was Ethan. Just the look on his face would be enough to kill me.
Gil’s POVI was tired. Not tired enough that a night’s rest would cure me of my fatigue but tired to my very bones; tired enough that taking a breath was an effortMy own arms were aching from holding Amelia, her small form weighed down by her sleepiness, her head resting snug in the crook of my neck, as if it were her rightful place. This was what she always did when she was frightened or undone, and she certainly had cause to be both tonight.Aaron's fingers relaxed around my shoulders, slow and gentle, as if he could sense my fatigue through my skin. The instant he relaxed his grip, something in my chest gave way.I locked eyes with him, really saw him, and my heart ripped in two.One side of me wanted me to drag him back into my arms and hold him like I used to when he was young and crying about skinned knees or smashed toys.That part wanted to erase the past six years. It wanted to forget that anything bad had occurred. It wanted my son to be my son again.The other half of me w







