Sunday arrived quiet and golden.
Gabriel was still asleep when Ethan left, one arm flung across the empty space where Ethan had been.
He looked peaceful, completely relaxed in a way he rarely allowed himself during waking hours.
Ethan pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving, careful not to wake him.
The drive to his childhood home took twenty minutes.
The gates opened automatically, recognizing his car.
The house stood exactly as it always had—imposing, elegant, unchanged.
Sarah answered the door.
"Ethan." Her smile was warm but something about it felt strained. "Come in. Your father's in his study."
Ethan stepped inside, studying her. She looked tired. Pale. The kind of exhaustion that sat deep in the bones.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Fine. Just didn't sleep well." She gestured toward the stairs. "Your documents are in your old room. I'll let your father know you're here."
Ethan climbed the stairs, each step familiar from years of living here.
