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Layla’s breath hitches. I hear it. The wheels turning.

“And now…?” she whispers.

“And now I’m sitting in a hospital parking lot trying not to freak out.”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah. That about covers it.”

I want to crawl through the line and curl up beside her on her sofa, where everything smells like cinnamon tea and bad reality TV. Instead, I press the phone tighter to my ear like her voice might be enough to stop me from disintegrating.

“Are you okay?” she finally asks.

I press my eyes shut.

The silence is thick, impregnated with everything I want to say but am too afraid to admit out loud.

“No. Not really.”

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

I nod. Even though she can’t see me. “I have to tell him.”

“You sure?”

“He deserves to know.”

By the time I pull into my driveway, I’m a thread away from unraveling. I should go inside. Make tea. Call my parents. Do something productive with this information that’s rewiring my entire existence.

Instead, I sit in my driveway like a teenager who missed curfew, trying to figure out how to explain the unexplainable.

The house looks different now. Smaller, like it belongs to someone else’s life.

And then—

“Katarina!”

Griffin. Shit. He’s pacing like he owns the damn block, fists clenched, face stormy. The veins in his neck are doing that thing they do when he’s about to explode. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“I’m your brother!”

“Yeah, not my damn warden!”

A car door slams behind me. I turn and see Liam walking up the driveway, keys in his hand. His eyes find mine immediately, and it makes my chest tight. Like I can’t get enough oxygen

Griffin clocks him

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Liam doesn’t answer. Just stands there, hands coiled at his sides, but I can see the tension building. He’s ready for whatever Griffin’s about to throw at him.

The second Griffin steps forward, I feel him unraveling.

His fist slams into Liam’s jaw with a crack that turns my stomach. Liam reels back, stunned, blood already blooming across his mouth.

“No—Griffin, stop!” I scream, but it’s too late.