When we pull into the driveway, she’s the first one out of the car. We watch her walk off and then follow behind her.
Inside, she’s standing in the middle of the room like she doesn’t know what to do next.
I walk over slowly. Not too close. I don’t want to spook her.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” But her voice is tight and strained. She doesn’t look okay.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
“I know.”
“Do you want to go home?”
She looks up at me. Those pretty eyes wide and vulnerable.
“No.”
One word. But it says everything.
“Then you stay as long as you need.”
She nods again and swallows hard. “Thank you.”
Zephyr heads to the kitchen. Callum flops on the couch, already scrolling his phone.
I gesture toward the hallway. “That room is all yours. Callum isn’t allowed to come over drunk anymore. Bathroom is across the hall. You need anything, it’s yours.”
She walks down the hall, and I watch her go. I watch the way she moves like she’s trying not to take up space, like she’s apologizing for existing.
It makes me want to hit something.
Zephyr comes back from the kitchen with a water bottle and hands it to me.
“She’s terrified,” he says quietly.
“I know.”
“You see the way she tensed when you touched her?”
“Yeah.”
He’s quiet for a second. “We can’t push her.”
“I’m not planning to.”
“Callum might.”
I glance at the couch where Callum’s sprawled out, oblivious to the tension.
“I’ll handle Callum.”
Zephyr nods and takes a sip of his water. “What’s the plan?”
“Make her feel safe. Give her space.”
“And her dad?”
