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“Are you sure?” He pulls away from me.

“I’m sure.” I give him another tight hug. “Let’s go check on him together, okay? So you can see for yourself. Would that help?”

He nods. After pulling on a pair of pajama pants, Leo grabs my hand, squeezing tight as we make our way downstairs. The house feels different this morning, heavy with unspoken tension. The nurse Eli arranged sits in a chair by Seb’s bed, looking tired but alert.

“He’s stable,” she assures us. “Slept through the night.”

Seb lies motionless except for the smooth rise and fall of his chest. The sight of him, usually so full of life and mischief, leaves an unwelcome pain in my chest. Leo’s grip on my hand tightens.

“See?” I kneel beside Leo, turning him to face me. “Uncle Seb is tough. He just needs rest to get better.”

“Like when I had the flu?” Leo’s bottom lip quivers.

“Exactly like that.” I brush his sandy hair from his forehead. “Why don’t we make some breakfast? The smell of bacon might even wake him up.”

A familiar warmth presses against my back—Zeke. His hand finds my shoulder, squeezing gently. His touch anchors me, even as worry gnaws at my insides.

“Good morning, buddy.” Zeke’s voice is tired with sleep. “How about chocolate chip pancakes?”

Leo’s face lights up at the mention of chocolate chip pancakes. “Can I help?”

“Of course,” Zeke says. “Go wash your hands first.”

As Leo scampers off, I lean back against Zeke’s chest, savoring his warmth. His arms wrap around my waist, and he buries his face in my hair. The gesture is intimate, domestic even.

“You should be resting,” I murmur.

“I’ll be fine.” His lips brush my ear. “Thank you for last night. For taking care of me.”

The vulnerability in his voice catches me off guard. I turn in his arms, studying his face. There are shadows under his eyes, and his usual sharp focus is softened by exhaustion. My fingers trail along the rough stubble on his jaw.

“That’s what wives are for, right?” I try to keep my tone light, but something shifts in his expression.

Before he can respond, Leo returns, bouncing with excitement. “I’m ready! Can we make extra for Uncle Seb when he wakes up?”

“Smart thinking, buddy.” Zeke releases me, but his hand lingers on my lower back. “Why don’t you get the chocolate chips while I grab the mixing bowl?”

I take one last look at Seb’s sleeping, grateful he’s going to be okay, before I follow Zeke and Leo to the kitchen. Watching those two interact and cook together is exactly what I need to lighten the dread pressing down on me.

In the kitchen, they’ve already gathered their ingredients and started mixing up the batter. I watch them move around the kitchen together, an easy familiarity between them. This feels dangerously close to real—to the kind of family I never thought I’d have. The kind of happiness that’s too good to be true.

Because it is, I remind myself. This marriage is about protection, nothing more. The tenderness in Zeke’s touch, the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not watching—none of it changes the fact that he walked away once before. That he’s capable of doing it again.

The sound of Leo’s laughter pulls me from my thoughts as Zeke helps him measure flour, leaving white handprints on both their shirts. Despite my resolve, I can’t help but smile at the sight.

While they’re happily making breakfast I retrieve my phone. I stare at it, my finger hovering over the call button. The kitchenis a bustle of noise—Leo’s excited to flip the pancakes, and Zeke ever the faithful teacher.

My hands shake as I press the button. Rissa answers on the second ring.

“Eve? You’re usually here by now.”

“I…” The words get stuck in my throat. Images from last night flash through my mind—Seb’s blood soaking into the carpet, Zeke’s haunted eyes, Leo’s terrified face. “I can’t come in today.”

“Are you okay? This isn’t like you.”

She’s right. In my years with SVU, I’ve never called in sick unless I was practically dying. But after watching violence tear through my home last night, the thought of facing another victim is too much.

“Family emergency.” The words taste bitter. “I need to handle some things here.”