The next morning settles over the ranch in a haze of pale winter light, the kind that makes everything seem quieter, softer, even when the world underneath feels like it’s vibrating with fear.
Ethan is being released today.
Asher is still in a coma.
And the Hawthorne house feels like it’s holding its breath.
Lily is in the kitchen, chopping vegetables too aggressively for lunch. Each thud of the knife is a beat of worry. Josh is pacing the length of the living room, six steps forward, six steps back, like if he stops, something terrible will happen.
Dex, Jude, and Jace sit around the table pretending to joke, but every laugh is hollow, sharp around the edges. Penny and Grace quietly set the table, their movements stiff and distracted.
I’m kneeling beside Mia, smoothing the flyaways in her dark hair.
“Mommy… is Efan coming home now?” she asks softly.
“He is,” I say gently.“But he has bruises on his arm and his ribs, so you have to be very careful when you hug him, okay?”
Mia nods, but her small face pinches with worry.“But he’ll be okay?”
I swallow, my heart squeezing. I crouch down so we’re eye to eye.
“He got hurt,” I tell her honestly.“But he’s going to be okay.”
“Promise?” Her lip trembles.
And just like that, I see it clear as day, the bond she’s built with Ethan, without even trying. The way he’s made space for her, for us… without asking for anything back.
“I promise, pumpkin.” I kiss her cheek.“Why don’t you make him a welcome home picture? Something beautiful.”
Her whole face lights up.“I will!”
She runs to her little drawing table, one Lily set up months ago, and starts coloring furiously.
I barely have time to exhale when Cas’s truck turns into the driveway, crunching over gravel. Everyone stands at once. The tension breaks like something snapping, and we all spill out onto the porch.
Mia grabs my hand with one hand and clutches her drawing in the other.
Cas moves toward the passenger door to help Ethan out, but Ethan beats him to it. He swings the door open and steps out, and for a moment everything inside me goes weightless.
He’s here.
He’s alive.
His arm is in a sling. His uniform shirt replaced by loose sweats and a hoodie. His face is scraped, bruised, streaked faintly with remnants of soot that wouldn’t wash away.
The urge to run to him hits so hard it’s almost physical. My body leans forward before my mind pulls sharply back. I grip Mia’s hand a little tighter.
Not yet.
Not when I don’t know where he stands.
Not when I don’t know if he even wants me close.
Lily reaches him first, pulling him into a careful hug, tears streaking down her face.
“My baby,” she sobs.“Don’t you ever do that again! I lost ten years of my life yesterday. But thank God you’re okay.”
Ethan nods, but his expression is carefully controlled, unreadable.
