God, I wish one of them were here.
Finn, with his warmth and soft hands and the way he talks like he’s trying to build a room out of comfort.
Atlas, with his quiet gravity and the way he holds the world back with his shoulders.
Kael, with his calm, steady voice and the way he looks at problems like he can dismantle them piece by piece.
I shouldn’t need all three of them.
I shouldn’t want to.
But I do.
And the wanting feels terrifying in its own way.
I wipe my eyes fast and drag in a breath.It doesn’t settle the ache.
Another buzz.
This one is my phone.
Not the intercom.
My phone.
Except—
I turned it off.
I stare at the drawer on the entertainment stand where I shoved it before coming home.The faintest slice of light seeps through the seam.
It turned itself back on.
Or I didn’t hold the button long enough.
Or—
My stomach heaves.
I can’t do this alone.
I stand.
Stumble.
Grab the phone with shaking fingers.I want to throw it against the wall.Want to drop it in the sink and run water until it dies.
But I hold it.
I hold it...and I do the hardest thing I’ve done in years.
I say the one word I told the boys would be my signal.
“Hydrate,” I whisper into the empty room.
And then I press the power button again, holding it until the light dies.
My breath collapses out of me, a broken thing.
