But I stay rooted. Still. Watching.
He’s down on all fours now—tense, trembling—like a cornered animal… or a child just learning to crawl. The energy in the room is warped. Unsettling.
No. It’s more than that. It’s eerie as fuck.
“Noah?” I say softly, choosing not to move any closer.
“Oui?”he replies, straightening his head slowly, eyes narrowing in confusion.
I stiffen.
The French. The pitch.
It’s higher than his usual voice—breathy, delicate, unsure.
It doesn’t sound like Noah at all.
He seems thrown by it too. He clears his throat, as if trying to shake something loose, then crawls toward the desk on shaky limbs.
Silently, he opens one of the drawers and pulls out a pink, felt-covered box, cross-stitched along the edges. Something homemade. Something precious.
He holds it like it might shatter in his hands.
When he opens the lid, he sighs—a soft, almost wistful sound—as he stares down at whatever’s inside. Then, slowly, he disappears into someone I don’t recognize.
I extend my neck, trying to get a glimpse over his shoulder.
And for half a second, I do.
A photo? A family photo?
But before I can make out the details, he snaps the lid shut with a sharpclickthat startles me back into the moment.
The awkward conversation with Dr. Belize flashes through my mind—disjointed, weird, and way too vague.
Maybe if I circle back, ask the right questions, I’ll finally get some real answers.
Answers that might help me make sense of whatthisis.
Because right now?
Nothing makes sense.
Not Noah’s breakdown.
Not the way his voice just…shifted.
And definitely not the bombshell he dropped about Meera being his sister.
I ease in a little closer, careful not to spook him, and ask softly, “Noah, where are your parents?”
He doesn’t answer.
He just closes the drawer again—gently, like he’s sealing something much older than whatever’s inside that box.
It dawns on me—just like Meera, his family is a topic wrapped in barbed wire. Too sensitive to touch. Maybe he’s opened up to Gabriel. Maybe he’s shared parts of his childhood that I never got close to.
And really, why would I? It’s not like I’m his boyfriend… or even family, for that matter.
