Gone where? She’s right there.
My body reacted before my mind caught up. My eyes burned. My breathing turned shallow, uneven.
“Gone where?”
He might have answered. I wasn’t sure. All I could hear was the ringing in my ears, everything else muffled and far away. When I didn’t move, he grabbed my arms and pulled me with him, steering me up the stairs and into their bedroom.
Oliver and Henry were sitting on the bed. Oliver’s face was red, his eyes swollen. Henry started to wail the moment he saw me, even though his cheeks were already streaked with dried tears.
I turned back to my father, standing in the doorway.
“You have to keep your brothers in here,” he said. “Don’t let them come downstairs.”
“Dad—”
“You have to keep them in here.”
“Dad, what?—”
The door shut behind him with a hard, final thud.
A hand landed on my shoulder, jolting me awake.
“Fuck,” I breathed out, blinking through the darkness, slowly making out my brother’s face.
“Sorry,” Henry said, offering an apologetic smile. “We’re landing soon.” His eyes flicked to the space beside me. “You’ll need to get back in your seat.”
I followed his gaze. Ethan was stretched along my side, half curled into me. There was barely enough room on the chair for one of us, let alone two, which left us pressed together beneath the thin blanket.
“I’m up.” My voice was rough with sleep, and I cleared my throat.
Henry gave us one last smile before heading back to his.
We’d stayed out in the lounge together. All of us. Waiting for updates. Sitting in the quiet after they told us he’d need surgery. It hadn’t been a small heart attack. Multiple blockages, which meant a bypass. When I’d finally drifted off, they were already prepping him to go in.
Sleep never settled properly after that. I’d slipped in and out for hours, memories tangling with nightmares. After one particularly bad one, Ethan had unbuckled his seatbelt and, without a word, slid in beside me. I’d stretched the chair flat, pulled the blanket over us, and let the warmth of his breath and the press of his forehead against mine pull me under again.
For a moment, I studied his face while he slept, brushing his hair back from his ear. A sharp wave of panic hit me as I watched him—the aftershocks of the dreams still clinging to me.
I couldn’t lose him. I wouldn’t survive losing him.
Keeping the contact light, I pressed a kiss to his forehead, then his cheek. He stirred, beginning to surface. Watching his lashes flutter open felt like relief. Real relief—even though I’d known he was only asleep.
As he blinked and rubbed a hand over his face, I wondered how much rest he’d actually gotten. The last thing I remembered before sleep had claimed me was his hand tracing slow circles over my back, his eyes still wide open.
“We’re landing,” I whispered.
He nodded, rolling onto his front as much as the space allowed, stretching with a soft groan. “Fuck,” he muttered. “My neck.”
I hummed in agreement. “Did you get any sleep?”
He made a face. “Barely. I’m gonna go wash up.” His voice was still low, meant only for the two of us, rough with exhaustion.
I couldn’t stop staring at him.
With one last stretch, he leaned in and pressed a kiss high on my cheek. “Be right back.”
I trailed my hand over his arm as he stood, watching him disappear down the narrow aisle. Rolling my neck, I straightened the chair and pulled the blanket off. When I lookedup, I was met with three identical stares. Henry, Oliver, and Charlotte—all sitting upright now, rumpled and watchful.
