Not biology. Not obligation. Not even hope that the DNA will prove something.
Just choice.
And watching him earlier—holding Noah, making hot chocolate with too many marshmallows, promising he’d come back, calling this place home—I realized something.
Silas Vale has a soul.
We all thought it was dead. Buried under violence and trauma and the horror of what his parents did to him. We thought the Reaper was all that was left.
But these two boys with their tiny noses and their million questions got under his skin. Found something we all thought was gone.
Parker did that. Parker and Noah and Liam.
They gave him back something he thought he’d lost forever.
The ability to love without expectation. To protect without possession. To be a father in every way that matters even if biology never confirms it.
That’s growth. Real, fundamental, beautiful growth.
And I’m so fucking proud of him I can barely stand it.
“Uncle Cal?” Liam’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “What does your name mean? Is it short for something?”
I look up to find all three of them watching me—Jace with knowing eyes, Parker with gentle curiosity, Liam with innocent interest.
“It’s Callum,” I say. “My full name is Callum Voss.”
“Callum,” Liam tests it out. “That’s nice. Why don’t people call you that?”
“Cal’s easier. Shorter.” I shrug carefully, mindful of Noah sleeping. “And when you’re a kid trying to sound tough, ‘Cal’ sounds better than ‘Callum.’“
“I think Callum sounds tough,” Liam says seriously. “Like a knight or something.”
Despite everything, I smile. “Thanks, buddy.”
“Why didn’t your parents protect you?” The question is sudden, cutting. “When the bad people came. Why didn’t they keep you safe like Mommy and you guys are keeping us safe?”
Fuck.
Parker’s hand tightens on Jace’s arm. Jace’s expression goes carefully neutral.
“Our parents weren’t like your mom,” I say carefully. “They... they had different ideas about what keeping us safe meant. They thought making us tough was more important than making us feel protected.”
“That’s sad,” Liam says quietly.
“Yeah,” I agree. “It was. But we had each other. And we learned how to protect ourselves. And now we get to protect you. So maybe it worked out the way it was supposed to.”
“Was Dominic—” Liam pauses, glancing at Parker. “Was our grandfather a bad guy?”
Parker’s entire body goes rigid. This is the question she’s been dreading, the one she’s going to have to answer eventually but hoped wouldn’t come this soon.
“Why do you ask that?” she asks gently.
“Because...” Liam’s voice gets smaller. “Because Uncle Charles said bad people tried to hurt us today. And I heard Grandma Evelyn telling Auntie Sienna that Dominic would never have let this happen. That he would have protected the family better. But you always look sad when people talk about him. And you left and didn’t come back until after he died. So... was he bad? Did he hurt you? Is that why you left? Is it because he didn’t like me and Noah?”
Jesus Christ.
This kid is five years old and he’s already pieced together more than most adults would notice.
