Vivienne's eyes lingered on him for a breath longer before she stepped forward again, closing the space between them.
Her arms came around him once more—slower this time, less the desperate clasp of someone confirming a heartbeat and more the deliberate hold of a mother who wanted her son to feel, without a doubt, that he was wanted here. She stayed there for several seconds, her cheek brushing his shoulder, eyes half-shut against the faint sting she refused to let show.
When she drew back, her hands remained on his arms, steadying him like she had when he was much younger.
"Congratulations, Damien," she said quietly. The words were firm, almost ceremonial, but the warmth beneath them was impossible to miss. "You did it."
Her gaze softened for the briefest moment—then shifted past him.
And in that shift, the temperature dropped.
