My gaze flicks, involuntarily, towards where my bedroom is.
“You nervous about something?” he presses, too casually. Like he already knows the answer.
My phone vibrates again, this time with a text. I switch him to speaker without breaking eye contact with the envelope and open the thread with Jaxon and Keys.
Keys:
There are no medical records from that night. Or any night after. Only that Liam was brought in. I’ve searched every hospital in the state. There’s nothing.
My blood turns cold.
“Are you listening to me?” my father snaps.
I don’t answer him directly. Instead, I ask, “How did you tell us apart?”
A sharp intake of breath. Barely controlled.
“There is nohow,” he says too quickly. “I just did. What kind of father do you think I am?”
The question cracks something open.
“What is this about, Khai?” he asks, and I hear the unmistakable sound of liquid being swallowed. Glass against teeth. Nerves.
“Just wanted to know,” I say quietly. “Goodbye, Father.”
“Don’t you dare”
I end the call.
The phone immediately starts buzzing again. I ignore it.
Instead, I open the group chat and type one final message before locking the screen.
Whatever he thinks he knows,
he’s circling the truth now.
And I won’t let him get to her.
Not ever.
Khai:
My father is responsible for Liam’s death. Tomorrow, I confront him. This ends.
I set the phone down before anyone can respond. There’s nothing more to say.
I finish my drink in one slow swallow and let the burn settle me. Then I turn back toward the bedroom.
I strip down to my boxers and slide into the bed quietly, careful not to wake her.
Emmy stirs, just slightly, a soft sound leaving her lips before she settles again. I curl around her instinctively, my arm sliding around her waist, drawing her back against my chest. She fits there like she belongs, like she always has.
I breathe her in.
Her warmth. Her scent. The steady rhythm of her breathing. I listen to it, let it anchor me, let it remind me why I can’t afford to fail. Why tomorrow matters. Why restraint tonight is not weakness, but necessity.
I allow myself this moment.
