(LIAM'S POV)
The journey to Greenwell took exactly five hours.
Five hours of winding roads, endless stretches of highway, and the low hum of the SUV's engine beneath us. Five hours of my mind racing through every possible scenario, every worst-case outcome, every dark corner of my imagination that conjured images of Mason in danger.
But the drive itself was eerily smooth.
Vi and Beau, who I had expected to fuss and cry and demand attention every twenty minutes, were oddly content. Vi had fallen asleep within the first hour, his tiny chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. Beau had spent most of the journey staring out the window, his big eyes tracking the passing landscape with a quiet curiosity that seemed far too mature for a baby his age.
No one complained. No one argued. No one asked to stop for bathroom breaks or snacks.
It was almost unsettling.
