MICHAEL

I don’t remember the drive home.

I remember my hands shaking on the steering wheel. I remember Collins talking and me not hearing a damn thing. I remember the gates opening like they always do—smooth, obedient—while my chest feels like it’s being crushed from the inside.

The house lights are on when I walk in.

That alone tells me everything.

Aliana is home.

I don’t announce myself. I don’t need to. My feet carry me upstairs on instinct, slow and careful, like if I move too fast she’ll disappear again.

I hear King before I see him.

“Mom, you don’t have to hold me that tight. I’m not going...