Derick’s POV

"Okay, Dad, Mom, you’re freaking me out," I said, folding my arms and narrowing my eyes at both of them. "What’s the matter? Is my brother okay? Why can’t I go into his room?"

Dad opened his mouth to speak, but Mom beat him to it. “He’s sleeping, sweetheart. That’s all. We don’t want to disturb him.”

She gave Dad a sharp glance—one I didn’t miss.

Dad nodded stiffly. “Right. He needs rest.”

I stared between them. Their shoulders were tight, voices forced. The way Mom clutched the edge of the couch with white knuckles, the way Dad wouldn’t meet my eyes—I knew something was off.

“You sure...