VENUSThe drive home was quiet.Not the sharp, suffocating quiet that follows an argument. Not the kind that dares you to speak first. This silence didn’t ask for anything at all. It simply existed, settled between us like something already agreed upon.The tires whispered against asphalt. The city blurred past the tinted windows, distant and irrelevant. George sat beside me, small hands folded in his lap, eyes trained on the passing shapes outside. He wasn’t asleep, just withdrawn, like he’d tucked himself somewhere safe inside his own head.Aaron sat in the front passenger seat.Not beside me.But not far, either.He hadn’t looked back since we left the clinic.That was the first thing I noticed.Not anger. Not withdrawal. Just… distance. “Let’s tighten the formation once we hit the bridge,” Aaron said calmly. “I don’t want any lane drift.”The driver acknowledged.Aaron’s voice was steady. Controlled. The same tone he used in boardrooms and crisis rooms—measured, deliberate, caref
Last Updated : 2026-01-03 Read more