The child speaks before either of us can breathe.“I need you to listen,” he says, and the sound of his voice stops my heart.Not because it is loud.Not because it is sharp.Because it is calm.Too calm.I stare at him, and my chest tightens in a way pain cannot explain. He looks small. He looks young. But his eyes hold something old. Something heavy. Something that has already seen endings.Kieran takes a step forward. His voice breaks before it rises.“Son”“No,” the child says gently. “Not yet.”That one word lands like a wall between them.I swallow. My hands shake, but I keep them still. I will not frighten him. I will not push. I will not fail him again.“You can speak,” I say softly. “We’re listening.”He turns to me, and his expression softens. Just a little.“I know, Mother.”That word almost brings me to my knees.Kieran exhales hard. I feel his anger and fear through the bond. It burns. It twists. It claws.“You shouldn’t be here,” Kieran says, forcing control into his voi
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