The house fell into a fragile silence after the door slammed shut behind Ezekiel. It was the kind of silence that didn’t soothe—it suffocated. It crept into my lungs, slipped under my skin, and weighed down every breath I tried to draw.

Elijah held me for a moment longer before carefully pulling away, his fingers brushing Marga’s hair as she dozed against my chest. The fight had drained her; even the fear she felt had folded into exhaustion. Her small hand curled into my blouse as if she ...