Boone rises immediately. “I’ll walk you.”
Silas snorts. “We’re not escorting her to bed like Victorian chaperones.”
I almost smile.
At my door, I hesitate.
“I… thank you,” I say. “For believing me. For not making this smaller.”
Boone inclines his head. “You don’t have to thank us for doing what’s right.”
Silas steps in first and presses a gentle kiss to my temple. “You’re safe here, sunshine.”
Caleb’s kiss is quieter. A brush against my cheek. “We’ve got you.”
Boone’s last. His hand cups the back of my neck, his forehead resting briefly against mine.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he murmurs.
When the door closes, the house doesn’t feel so quiet anymore. And moving forward doesn’t feel like something I have to do by myself.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Silas
Delaney isat the table when I come into the kitchen.
She’s sitting with both hands wrapped around a mug as if it’s an anchor. Steam curls up past her face, and she stares into the coffee as if waiting for answers.
She looks… composed.
Which is somehow worse than if she was in a state of panic.
She doesn’t flinch when I enter, but her eyes lift immediately.
Boone’s absence hangs in the room. No boots by the door. No low voice reminding Sadie about her backpack.
I nod toward the window. “Boone’s on the school run?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I heard the truck.”
She takes a slow sip of coffee. Sets the mug down carefully. Too carefully.
I don’t rush her.
I lean against the counter, folding my arms. “Morning.”
“Morning,” she replies. This one lands steadier.
Silence stretches.
She looks down at the mug again, thumb tracing the rim. I can practically hear the gears turning in her head.
Finally, she exhales.
“If I don’t go now,” she says quietly, “I won’t.”
There it is.
